The Book of Dad. Paul Barker

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      Dad. Say it. Dad. What does Dad mean? Dad’s not Father. No. Not Papa. Definitely not. Not Daddy, not Daddio. No way. Don’t even consider Pater. Dad is something and someone else entirely. Dad. He has a solid monosyllabic quality, a comforting bluntness. Dad is all homely and informal in his open-necked shirt. Dad is unique and universal, a fascinating amalgam of qualities, vices and foibles. Dad is drama and excitement, unfolding action, comedy, romance, soap opera, game show. All human life is in Dad. Dad is a landscape and a portrait. Dad is history; Dad is culture. Dad reaches his arms around the world. Dad is a king with an invisible crown. Dad is the centre, gravity, the slowly spinning gyroscope from which all things come. Dad is all this and more. Pretty much.

      You might be a Dad; you might not. But, whoever you are, rich or poor, black or white, great or small, man, woman or child, you will know how essential Dad can be. You will know of an occasion, an incident, an accident, something from your very own past that says something about the nature, the role, the purpose of Dad. Dad is part of nature’s great cycle. Dads have children; children have Dads. And so on. It’s time to celebrate Dad.