Post-Father's Day Tribute

And now, a word about my dad, Myron Butler.

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Or maybe four words. If I could sum up my dad in 4 words, they would be: smart, funny, talented, and industrious.

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Dad was very much a product of his time (and the fact that he was the doted-upon baby of 11 children, including 8 older sisters who spoiled him).

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He didn't do "women's work." Housework, cooking, and childcare were my mother's domain. But he took very seriously his role as provider and man of the house.

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This is us in April 1958. I was 3, Dad was 23.

When we lived in Los Angeles, Dad built plane parts at North American Aviation and Douglas Aircraft for about 6 years.

In April 1960 we moved to Fresno when he became a bus driver for that city, and commercial driving became his lifelong career. This is Dad in uniform in February 1962 at age 27.

In February 1967 he began driving long-distance for Greyhound Bus Lines. He worked 23 years for Greyhound before he retired. Then he began trucking for Swift Transportation over the next 8 years. My mom enjoyed traveling the country with him during those years.

Even after he quit the road, Dad needed to keep busy, so he went to work behind the counter at Sentry Fire & Welding for 4 years.

When I describe my father as industrious, I'm not exaggerating. When he wasn't at work, he always had multiple projects going.

At left is Dad with his father-in-law, Loyd Haley, working on an engine in November 1955. Dad was 21 and Grandpa was 49.

Our cars rarely saw the inside of an auto repair shop. In the days before computerized engines, there wasn't much my dad couldn't fix himself.

My brothers spent thousands of hours under the hood with him. All three are now very talented at car repair.

That's not all. Dad handled his own home repairs, too. Except for major electrical work--which he felt was better handled by professionals--my dad could fix anything.

He's also a gifted carpenter, a talent he passed on to Darryl. At right: Dad at 31, June 1966.

He worked hard outside the house, too.

Dad does great cement work. Over the years he made our yards look tidy with cement edgings around the lawns, flower gardens, and trees. He taught himself to lay brick for the same purpose.

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He built retaining walls and garden boxes for our mom's beautiful gardens. He put up sheds and cemented in our swingsets to keep them solidly safe. (July 1971, age 36)

As hard as Dad worked, he was always up for some recreation.
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We enjoyed trips to Disneyland, the county fair, the beach, and the mountains. There was time for sports, camp-outs, root beer floats at A&Ws, and chocolate-dipped ice cream cones at Foster's Freeze.

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This was a visit to Uncle Gene and Aunt Bertha's house in Santa Cruz, CA, December 1970. Jeff was 9, LeRoy was 11, and Dad was 36.

What can I say about Dad's sense of humor? He could find humor in the most mundane moments of everyday life.

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In our family, jokes that make you roll your eyes and/or groan out loud became known as "Myron jokes." They were always silly and sometimes outright gross.

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Don't ask him to tell you about the Woolly-booger. And for heaven's sake, never ask him about the bet a man made with a bartender regarding a spittoon. And never, never pull his finger!

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Making odd use of pliers in December 1969 at age 35.

Dad dropped out of high school 2 weeks before graduation because a teacher offended him. Yet he valued education, and when I was a baby he went to night school and earned his diploma.

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If we ever had questions, we knew Dad would have the answers. He stayed informed and could think through any problems. To this day, he is a creative problem-solver.

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He also encouraged us to think for ourselves. How many times did we hear, "Look it up!" or "Figure it out!" (May 1969, age 34)

When we bragged to the neighborhood kids, "My Dad's smarter than your dad!" we truly believed it!

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At the end of a tough, busy day, Dad would sometimes be so beat that he'd fall asleep sitting up.

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Our cat Boots often took advantage of the situation and curled up on Dad's shoulder or chest to join him in a little--you guessed it--cat nap!

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This was in December 1964, when Dad was 30.

When we were small, Dad avoided the distasteful chores of childhood, like diaper changing and potty training, but he was an important figure in our lives. We looked up to him and trusted him to take care of us, and he provided for us well.

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After my mom's first stroke, Dad really stepped up to the plate. He began doing dishes and laundry, cooking meals, and cleaning house. I was impressed by how this leopard changed his spots!

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The above picture was taken in October 1993. Dad was 59 and Mom was 56. Below is Dad and Kathy, ages 74 and 64, on New Years Day 2009.

Now, unbelievably, Dad is 2 months away from his 75th birthday. Yet he still fills his time with many projects around his home, building sheds, putting up fences, pouring cement, tending the yard, and making repairs.

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And that's when he has time for it between their many road trips and bowling tournaments!

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When you're a kid, you think your dad is all-powerful and immortal. It can be hard to come to terms with the reality.

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Reality be hanged! I hope you're around for a long time, Dad. Here's wishing your Father's Day was a great one!