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June 18, 2002 hologram dad Another traditional holiday has come and gone with no tradition whatsoever; unless, of course, the absence of tradition is, itself, a tradition.  This must be a common phenomenon considering the number of single parents scattered about like human frag from the Divorce Explosion. Father's Day did not seem like Father's Day despite the sadly gallant efforts of my children.  The holiday is not, after all, a celebration of ejaculation or a spunk fest.  It recognizes the male parent as part of a family, not as a lone wolf.  It marks the man of substance, not merely his projection.  There is no place at Father's Day for a Hologram Dad. Tomorrow is "Juneteenth" which, as everybody knows, commemorates that day in 1971 when Reverend Jesse Jackson, suffering from an ingrown ass-hair, failed to speak in rhyming couplets.  This is a Negro-only deal and I am not allowed to observe it.  I view my exclusion as good fortune, a chance to dodge inadequacy.

©  2002 by the beastmaster