"Lock the doors and close the blinds -- we're going for a ride..."

... I didn't call my Dad today for Father's Day.

No, it's not because he's no longer with us. He's 62 years young and loving life.  He hits the gym several times a week (which is several more times a week than I do!) and does his share of living life to the fullest.

No, it's not because he doesn't deserve it.  "Daddy was never there for me" and "Daddy would abuse and torture me" and"Daddy was always too critical," thankfully, do not apply.  Don't get me wrong -- my Dad has his own mishegaas about things, and we don't always see eye to eye, but I had a childhood based on love and respect from both of my parents. I'm very fortunate that this is the case.

So -- why am I such a terrible son to not even make one phone call?

Because today is the 39th wedding anniversary for him and my Mom.  And they've decided to drop everything and drive up to visit friends a few hours away who share their anniversary. Something for the grown-ups. Something just for them.

I'll call him tomorrow and extend my wishes - as well as Happy Anniversary ones. And he'll get a postcard from his grandson sent yesterday from the National Postal Museum in DC. And I'll make a call to my brother so we can start planning something huge for anniversary #40 next year. Of course, knowing the two of us, we'll probably start planning something over the next three weeks now, and then put off all planning of it until May of next year when we realize that we never actually thought of something.

My son wished me a Happy Father's Day several times today. And made me a tie in pre-school. Well, painted a tie with puffy paint.  It looks like something out of Less Than Zero. But the thought was there.

You know what the best moment of this Father's Day was for me, though? We attended the annual City of Alexandria Waterfront Festival. There were lots of carnival rides and activities. The first of which was the "big slide." You know the deal -- walk up flights and flights of stairs and ride down a huge slide on a piece of burlap.

Well, last year this was kind of a frightening prospect for him. And he went with his Mom. We asked him which one of us he wanted to go with this year.

His response? "I want to do it myself."

And he did. He made it up all of those stairs, never looking back. He slid down on his own. No fear.  It was a bittersweet moment -- seeing him take steps towards his own independence. It was something to be proud of as a father.

Perhaps that's what it's all about -- an acknowledgement of looking at the way you raised someone -- the actions, the thoughts, the moral calls -- and say "I did good."  if that's the case, I think this was a wonderful Father's Day.

I hope it was a wonderful Father's Day for my Dad as well.