IT’S OCTOBER AND THAT MEANS SOCCER CARPOOLS.
In our carpool, three dads — Jim, Dean and yours truly — team with three feisty, fun teenage daughters. It’s mostly singing and laughter. Dads sing and girls laugh.
There’s nothing more special than three aging rockers groovin’ out to Beach Boys and other classic oldies with a captive audience. What special musical talents we have comes with all heart….
“Ba-Ba-Ba-Barbara Ann…Ba-Ba-Ba-Barbara Ann…Ba-Ba-Ba-Barbara Ann…”
“You guys are dorks!” shot up from the back seat.
Not skipping a beat, literally and figuratively, we graying hipsters relished instant fame as The Dorky Dads Club.
“Oh yeah? If we’re dorks, then what does that make you?” Jim countered.
“We’re cool. You’re not!” came back quickly. It was difficult to determine who was shooting up these zingers amidst the howling.
Cherished membership in The Dorky Dad Club is mostly about payback. It’s just like the famous commercial: “gas for the car – $42.50; lunch – 10 bucks; lovingly embarrass your daughter – priceless!”
When it comes to soccer carpools, being a Dorky Dad is key to sanity, success and survival. It doesn’t get any better unless it’s the moms’ turn to drive. That’s a whole ‘nother story. Until then….and now for our closing number, let’s “hit it” boys…
” I-I-I-I goooottttttt yoooouuuu, babe…I got you babe…I got you babe.
