By the time you read this, I’ll be a new father. Just saying that … er … typing that, is a pretty weird, cool, scary, exciting, stressful, incredible, or just any other adjective I can think of that my neurotic mind reverts back to. I wanted to take the time to commemorate the birth of my first-born son because hey, I have that ability to do so in print with this here page. What can I say? I’m excited! Sue me.
A few things though about fatherhood, and hopefully I’m not the first dude to have these feelings. Maybe I am, but I worry about my abilities to be a great father. I don’t want to be a good father; I want to be a great father. In 20 years, I want my son to look back and say, “I had the best damn dad in the world.” That’s all. But talk about pressure! I worry that I’m going to say the wrong things at the wrong times, do the wrong things at the right times, be a bad role model because of my sarcastic, sometimes cynical nature. Overall, I just worry that I won’t be the attentive father that I know I need to be or whatever other fear of failing this kid I can think of.
I am, however, comforted by the fact that my father was a good man; let me rephrase that, a great man! He didn’t know what he was doing when my sister and I were born, but we turned out all right. I mean, I’m not a murderer or anything, and I can take care of myself. There’s so much more he taught me, but I’m only limited to one page and I have a lot more to get to. But basically what I’m saying is that he and my mom must have done something right (those who know me might disagree). But I just wanted to take the time to tell my dad what a great job you did. I know it wasn’t always easy being my dad. I know that it was sometimes downright blood boiling. But you did a great job and I can never thank you enough for that. And I know you’re excited to be the grandfather, papa, whatever you’re going to call yourself once Brody’s here. I can’t wait until I get to see you hold him and play with him. It makes me laugh out loud when I remember all those times you said to me, “Wait until you’re a father … just wait.” Well, now’s my chance and I am as ready as I’ll ever be.
Now comes the task of trying to make this specific editorial relevant to the content we produce here in Baggers, so here goes. I’m not the pushy type; more the encouraging type, and all I can tell you is that this kid is going to see his fair share of all things motorcycle related. From the different events I attend to hanging out with me in the garage listening to the Queens of the Stone Age as I tinker away on whatever motorcycle project I’m currently working on. In fact, I’m currently developing the next prototype quick-detach car seat for Harleys so we can get him started at an early age. Maybe I’ll get it done by the time we’re taking him home from the hospital on it. You think that will raise some red flags with the soccer moms out there? I hope so! All I know is that if it’s a motorcycle he wants to ride, then by golly, he will. That’s all I have for you now. Wish me luck! I know I’ll need it.