Stoned-cold wisdom from dad

I let it slip recently to a couple of my children that I wasn't always the paragon of moral and legal rectitude I am today, that there was a time, in fact, that I not only inhaled but liked it.

Jaws dropped around the restaurant table, including my wife's, not that she was surprised by this news and not that she was always an angel either, but because she was startled that I casually mentioned this in the middle of dinner at Famous Dave's.

I don't remember the context of this revelation, but be assured it wasn't gratuitous. I don't set out to shock, dismay or disturb my children on purpose; I do plenty of it without trying. And I certainly don't believe parents should unload every detail about their pasts on their children. But I do believe the judicious dispensation of little nuggets here and there might be appropriate when there's a need to make a larger point, such as:

Your father had a life before you, even before mom (and no, this is neither the time nor place to discuss anything that happened pre-mom). He did some foolish, dumb things, maybe even some illegal things. He might have been caught doing some of those things, but he got away with many more, not because he deserved to but due to sheer, dumb luck and because God often takes special care of his most idiotic creatures. He is not proud of everything he did; indeed, some of it still brings a rush of shame and embarrassment when he recalls it. But all of it -- good, bad and ugly -- played some role in making him the man, the father, he is today -- imperfect and therefore forgiving of imperfections in others; loved and therefore capable of loving; trying to make sense of it all but accepting a certain amount of mystery in life.

You, too, my child, will do some dumb, foolish things. Probably you already have. Some of them your father will know about, some he will suspect and confront you about, some he will suspect but never mention and some he never will know about. First and foremost, his prayer is that you survive your idiocies and misadventures, and then that you learn the right lessons from them and, if graced with children of your own someday, use those lessons to make yourself a wise, understanding, forgiving mother or father.

Fortuitously, as I was writing this Saturday, the Today Show had Willie Nelson and his son on reflecting on their relationship. My wife called me into the room, knowing what a huge Willie fan I am. (One of my favorite memories from my reporting days was interviewing Willie when he was traveling with Bob Kerrey, then running for the U.S. Senate. I was highly amused, perhaps even got amusingly high, just standing next to Willie and getting a whiff of that whacky tobaccy that fairly oozed from his pores and clung to his beard and braids.) In any case, I entered the room just in time to hear Willie's son say of his old man, "I can learn from his mistakes because they're so well documented."

So, I, too, hope my children learn from my mistakes, of which I've made plenty as a father. Thankfully, they're not as well-documented as Willie's, though perhaps my children have kept careful records, the better to work it all through with a therapist some day.

Nevertheless, I think I have more to share with my children than the occasional flashback of youthful misbehavior.

So, some random Father's Day observations, advice, etc., for my children:

-- The world's not going to wait while you try to "find yourself." Get a job, look for yourself on weekends.

-- Rebel, at least a little, but see previous observation about getting a job first.

-- If you have nothing nice to say, for God's sake, log out of Twitter.

-- Which reminds me: Put down that cell phone and pull up your pants. Now.

-- The world has plenty of cowbell. How about taking up the triangle?

-- Smile and the world smiles with you (Actually, more likely it wonders just what in the hell you're up to -- which, come to think of it, is a lot more fun than having it smile with you, isn't it?)

-- It's said you're only promised today, that tomorrow isn't guaranteed. Actually, you're not even promised all of today. Not trying to be morbid, just saying: Don't believe you're guaranteed even this evening. If something really and truly matters, do it now.

-- Some day you will become your parents. This may seem horrifying right now, but it sure is more dignified than trying to stay 18.

-- No one is responsible for making you happy. And neither are you responsible for anyone else's happiness.

-- All lives are epic.

-- When you find yourself standing in a line, make sure it's not with a bunch of lemmings, or for tickets to Charlie Sheen's stage show.

-- If you suffer in silence, you may never find that others feel similar pain and might offer solace, comfort and perspective. But that's not an excuse for whining. It's a fine line.

-- The truth may set you in free in some cases. In others, get a damn good lawyer. .

-- Always buy microwave-safe and dishwasher-safe. We're not animals.

-- Life ain’t like Chatroulette. Sometimes you have to interact with people who bore you.

-- Say no to undercoating at the car dealer, but yes to it at the spa.

-- Laughter is the best medicine, but make it more at your expense than others'.

-- Life is an improvisational band, and someone just handed you a glockenspiel, which you've never played before, but here comes your solo anyway. Blow! I mean, strum! Or is it pound? Well, do SOMETHING with it.

-- Practice good grammar but don't be a judgmental jerk toward those who don't.

Finally, never stand downwind of Willie Nelson -- and if you must, don't inhale.