This Sunday is Father’s Day.  It will be my second one without the Captain.  My dad was never much for the sentimental holidays, and he was impossible to find something for the Father’s Day gifts that are such a strong part of the tradition.

I know over the years, my brother and I probably tried every combination of gift ideas out there.  I remember one year finally getting something I knew the Captain would enjoy – the blue shop paper towels and a couple of rolls of duct tape!  Dad was practical and seemed to love it.

This morning on the show, I mentioned some of the earliest memories of my Dad that were mine and all mine.  Not something from the family photo album or something someone told me and I had incorporated as my memory, but something that the Captain and I shared – Dad taught me to ride a two-wheel bike!

For those that missed it, I was about 5 years old and the family was living in suburban Detroit, Michigan. I remember the Captain coming home from being on the boat.  Dad took the training wheels off the bike and gave me some last minute tips before heading out on two wheels – “Keep pedaling, steer around anything that gets in the way, and don’t look back.”

I remember Dad holding the seat of my bike and telling me to pedal faster as I rode down the street towards the first corner of the block we lived on.  There was that feeling that it will be okay because Dad was holding on to the bike.

I made it to turn one with no problem, and then turn two and three with no problem.  I made it down the alley, turn four, and was headed up the street to our house when I saw Dad sitting on the porch.  The Captain was drinking a beer and relaxing.

My 5-year old brain could not process the information fast enough and I made a mistake of not remembering Dad’s advice – “keep pedaling, steer around anything that gets in your way and DON’T LOOK BACK”

I looked back!

As a 5-year old, I made the mistake of turning my head, and with that action, my shoulders and arms turned too.  That made the handlebars of the bike turn too.

I flew off the bike and landed in the front yard.  I remember going right over the handlebars.

I do not know how Dad did it without laughing or even chuckling.  I am pretty sure it was a funny sight, a combination of disbelief on my face and the laws of physics in action as I flew over the handlebars.

The Captain walked over and asked me if I was alright.  I told him yes.  He asked me if I wanted to get back on and try it again.  I again told him yes.

That was the last day I had training wheels on my bike.  But it wasn’t the last time Dad taught me to travel and ride towards the unknown.

The Captain taught me how to drive a tractor out on the farm.  A big red Massey Ferguson tractor had an engine bigger than the whole of our family car.  I learned to drive dangerous machinery with the Captain.

Dad taught me how to drive a boat too.  I learned the basics about sailing in Foster’s Pond in a converted canoe with outriggers we made in the garage.  I might never sail around the world, but the Captain and I sailed around a little pond that seemed huge to me at the time.

Dad also taught me how to drive a stick-shift car.  I remember the Captain saying, “If you can drive a stick son, you can drive anything out there.”

The Captain would not let me get my driver’s license even though I had passed Drivers Ed in school.  “You are not a real driver until you can drive my car in traffic and not stall the car.”

Dad was right about that.  Even though I stalled the car many times on that hill, and backed up traffic who knows how far, I eventually got it.  And once I did, I really felt like a real driver compared to my friends who would look on in amazement that I could do the full body Hokey Pokey that is driving with a stick.  They could only drive with an automatic.  Since then, most of the cars I have owned have been stick shifts.

Learning to ride on two wheels was the first step in opening the world to my travels and adventures.  There are no photos of that day with me and the Captain, just the pictures in my mind.

I might not have said it at the time, but I know he knows.  Thanks Dad!

Commander Duane Preston – US Coast Guard (Retired) 1943 - 2008

I am just now starting to feel like myself after almost a week of battling the seasonal allergies and pollen that seem to love to reek havoc on my sinuses, throat, eyes and … well, just about every part of my body.

I have heard from friends, family and co-workers offering up their version of the home remedy they think will do the trick.  I want to thank everyone for the advice and tips. 

I might be suffering from a not-so-rare condition right now.  The condition is called Spring Fever.  The dictionary defines Spring Fever as a feeling of restlessness, excitement, or laziness brought on by the coming of spring.