So, what does a baby computer call its Father?!? Ri-i-i-ght. He calls it ‘Data’!
You know, a lot of truth is captured in this cutesy, pun-ny Father’s Day joke for the 21st century.
Everything that you – the reader of these very words – and I are … is the end result of that one split second of conception, when that sperm hit that egg, the DNA, the ‘data’ in your ‘Da-Da’!
Your eye color, the cut of your chin, your height, your default weight, your ability to process a thought, your IQ, your eye-to-hand coordination when you hit or throw a ball – is all predestined and pre-configured in a rather remarkable instant of the sharing of the ‘baby batter’.
Oh sure, mom had a hand in it, so to speak, but after all, this is Father’s Day weekend 2015, so let’s go there.
Meet mine. Charlie Ziants was sure a character. ‘Good time Charlie’ to the gang around the golf course or bowling alley, ‘Mr. Ziants’ to many around the power plant, ‘Chuck’ to his wife Phyllis of 40+ years … and ‘Sir’ or ‘Pop’ to my brothers and me.
Courageous (a WW II & Korea Vet); Brilliant (Ohio State Grad & accomplished engineer); Trustworthy (raised five kids); Resilient (never without a job or paycheck); Loving (a pat on the head or kick in the pants when needed); Gregarious & Fun (always there with a joke, laugh & cold drink ); Supportive (a treasure trove of sage advice & counsel); Athletic (a true Bowling & Golf Ace); Musical (you should’ve heard him on piano or accordion)… and with a Voice and a Laugh that could really grab attention!
Rumi, the Persian mystic & poet once wrote, “When you are dead, seek for your final resting place … not in the dirt … but in the hearts of men.” Charlie even pulled this feat off too.
Pop, God Bless you, sir! Thank you for your service, both on foreign shores in the U.S. Army … and on these shores raising the tribe of Ziants.