An ode to Saturday mornings, and fathers

I was thinking about the ending of the Saturday show “Click and Clack” on National Public Radio, which led me to reminisce about Saturday morning outings with my father. This being Father’s Day weekend and all.

Growing up, I often accompanied Daddy to one of several places: a neighborhood hardware store (whose smell I still remember); a local picture frame shop, where we could do the actual framing and where Daddy passed on his corny jokes to the proprietors; and most always to a donut store containing a winding linoleum counter top with swiveling leather chairs.

In my teen years, on Saturdays, the radios in the house were tuned to 88.1 FM and this is how I was introduced to Click and Clack: The Tappet Brothers. The brothers’ wry and witty humor fit my family well.

As an adult, I have developed my own Saturday rituals and they do involve errands but also, usually, a coffee gathering of friends on a Broadway sidewalk. After coffee, in season, we walk across the street to Market Days, which gratefully has become wildly successful. Local farmers and artisans sell their wares. Some of my friends bring their dogs, and Market Days for the canines is surely a festival of fascinating smells, fresh grass and treats.

Saturdays are the one day of the week when I don’t HAVE to be anywhere (unless I have the hospital pager) and thus they open up wonderful opportunities and possibilities. My outings of long ago, with my father, taught me that friends and good company were always close at hand. The ending of Click and Clack will make my Saturdays feel emptier, but hopefully a replacement will come.

There is no replacement, however, for a community rich in friends, nor, certainly, my father.


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