I’m rarely sentimental, but seeing as it’s Father’s Day I wanted to pay a quick tribute to my dad, who from the birth of opinionistas has been my most faithful reader. The morning after I post, I often receive an email entitled “Spellcheck.dad” containing a full vocabulary lecture, grammatical breakdown and content analysis of every word I’ve written, with occasional links to supplemental articles about blogs, lawyers, lawyers with blogs and other potential points of interest. He’s always the first to inform me that split infinitives, though sometimes preferable in the sentence flow, are still technically incorrect, “palatial” is spelled with a T, and Malaysia is not really a large producer of Mother of Pearl buttons used in wedding dresses but rather Brunei would be a more likely source, plus it has a higher rate of child labor. When he comes up to the city for a weekend he hauls a five-ton suitcase filled with bizarre tools and intimidating electrical gadgets, which he uses to fix every cracked grout, loose wire, dripping faucet and squeaky doorknob in my apartment. During the last visit, he faced a new challenge: navigating a chance run-in with Boyfriend, who had to meet Dad at my building and provide him with a set of keys (at the time I was chained to the ankles of a busy partner and dared not venture more than a block from the office). Though I learned of the brief encounter second hand, I can pretty much recreate the entire doorstep scene:

Dad: (openly trying to avoid the fact that a large male possessing, in all likelihood, a fully functioning penis is handing him keys to his daughter’s apartment, which contains items such as her bed, shower and other domestic components suggesting regular nudity) Er, hello Boyfriend.

Boyfriend: (aware of the delicate situation, and thus equally uncomfortable) Hi [Opinionista’s Dad], how are you?

Dad: (grateful that Boyfriend is at least pretending the situation isn’t completely awkward) I’m ok, caught the 6 a.m. train so I could make it before noon. Figured I’d get a head start on replacing those bathroom tiles and rewiring all the phone jacks.

Boyfriend: Cool. (opens door, helps Dad with massive suitcase overflowing with tools) So, how ’bout that blog!

Dad: Yeah, how ’bout it.

Boyfriend: (trying to be jovial) You seemed to have escaped the acid tongue so far.

Dad: (with classic Dad subtlety and nuance) You sure haven’t. And good thing her mother doesn’t read it.

Boyfriend: Well with her mother, there’s a lot to say. I’m sure we’ll all get ours eventually.

Dad: You got that right. On both counts.

Well Dad, I couldn’t bear the thought of you feeling left out. So here’s a full post to you in all your fixit vocabulary protective pansophical omniscience. Happy Father’s Day.