Sometimes you just have to ‘go fishin’

Work in Progress

By Ivan Morgan

I have always hated authority of any kind, and that has often made my life unnecessarily hard. Here’s one of the times it didn’t.

Many decades ago, I was the single father of four kids, trying to keep everybody’s bodies and souls together, and like most 40-year-olds I was awash in a sea of responsibilities and troubles.  In addition to the several jobs I worked to pay for everything, I was a volunteer for activities my kids were in. I was a soccer coach and a cub leader. As you can imagine I was a very busy boy.

Authority in my mind has always extended to calendars. The calendar said it was mid-October, well into Fall. The calendar said one thing, but the weather said another. I listened to the weather.

In those days I worked on Water Street and lived in St. Phillips. I remember it was an aggravating day at work. What about I don’t remember. I remember a government official, with a bad haircut and polyester tie and jacket reading me the riot act. He was angry and aggressive. What about? I don’t remember. I was told under no circumstances was I to be late in the morning. Again, I don’t remember why.

I was getting flak from all sides. I do remember the day was bright and warm on Water – a moody late summer afternoon with a hot sun and no wind. I decided to leave early. Not ask to leave early, just go. It was such a glorious day. Too lovely for what I was going through.

I was home when the school bus dropped the kids home. They were astonished. I never did that. I was the responsible one. The one that made sure everything was done. The glue, if you will, that held everything, and everyone, together. Any single parent reading this knows exactly what I am talking about.

We were well into the school year; it was a typical weekday with our tasks, duties and lives mapped out for us: supper, homework, laundry, meals prepped for tomorrow, TV and bed. Another busy day tomorrow. On that glorious afternoon I just didn’t care.

I said to the kids, “Let’s go swimming then have a barbecue.” Swimming? Seriously?

There was no resistance. No “What about homework?”  No “But my favourite show is on soon.” No “But it’s a school night.” It was a golden evening, and we soon found ourselves on the wharf.

I took the lead, plunging into the water. Soon we were all in. I can still remember the smell of warm creosote and cool ocean. After a glorious dip, wrapped in towels, we ambled back to the house.

I fired up the barbecue, we all got dry clothes, and sat around the deck. My oldest made a salad. It was dusk by six, a red sun shining gold over the ocean and bathing us in that lovely fall light. The leaves were turning but it was warm. Magic.

I was in a funny mood. I told the kids we are all staying home tomorrow – no school, no work, just pipping off. That way we could stay up late and sleep in.  Again, no argument. We sat in the dark roasting stuff on the barbecue. Later we curled up and watched movies. Hell, I even had a few beers – a total weekday no-no for me.

I remember that evening because I learned something. The calendar assigns holidays, the state, your employer and the school system enforce when and what you do: weekends, shifts, semesters: when to work and when to relax.

Sometimes you have to make your own holiday. Sometimes pipping off is key to living. Sometimes – not often – you have to just say to hell with it.

We all know the world today is overwhelming. It was then too. I am not saying drop out or run away. Stay an active member of society, teach your young ones the same. But also teach them how to pip off. Teach them not to be ruled by calendars, timetables and everyone else’s drama.

If it’s a nice day, once in a while choose not to be stuck in traffic, not to make sure the homework is all done, not to address the latest work crisis.

If it’s a nice day, turn your back on all of that, pip off and take everyone swimming.

Ivan Morgan can be reached at ivan.morgan@gmail.com