Alternative Dad’s Day plans

By S. Derrickson Moore

dmoore@lcsun-news.com

Today’s the day.

Have you made plans to get together with your dad or grandfather?

If your schedules, locations, or financial or health considerations make getting together impossible, have you sent off the card and gifts?

If not, don’t panic. Dads tend to be forgiving about these things and there are lots of last-minute strategies that can make your father feel special on his day.

If all his favorite restaurants are booked, you can deliver a picnic basket packed with some of his favorite treats, invite him over for a special meal  or offer to grill the steaks, burgers or salmon at his home or yours.

Give him a book or movie you think he’d like, or tickets to a sports or entertainment event and make a date to enjoy it with him.

Since many dads hate crowds (and waiting in line, and public displays), you may actually be making his day considerably brighter.

If dad’s at a distance, you can still share some face time via phone or Skype. Or consider making a date for a low-tech, voice-only phone call. No matter how tech savvy your dad is, this is not a time for mere texting. This is an occasion for snail mail letters and cards, and the warmth of hearing your voice, gifts that will warm his heart, and maybe earn a place in his desk or bureau drawer for decades after the day.

For those of us who have lost our dads, there are still many ways to honor memories and celebrate the day.

Reach out to widows, children, grandchildren and other relatives and friends of departed dads. Plan letters or phone chats and share favorite memories.

If you’re up to it, get some flowers and plan an expedition to his cemetery plot, a place you scattered his ashes, or one of his favorite places or somewhere you think he would have loved seeing.

Follow that with an upper of some kind: a walk, a meal.

If you have friends or family with loved ones in the military who are stationed far away, or who have died in the service, make a special effort to help them remember those special dads today.

Gather packing materials and gifts of toiletries and nonperishable treats and help their stateside families assemble goody packages to send off to those serving far away.

And for those who lost brave dads in battle, from World War II to the present, a prayer, a card, a call, can help ease grief with warm memories.

If you are of a certain age, probably many or all in your circle of friends are without dads to spoil on this Father’s Day.

It’s a good opportunity to gather for a little memorial lunch or dinner of your own. Ask friends and relatives to bring a few old photos of their dads and at various stages of family life, with newborns, small children, teens, first grandchildren, etc. Pass the photos around the table and share favorite anecdotes about your dad and experiences you’ve shared.

Not all of us were fortunate enough to have or know our dads while growing up. If you know someone in that category, it would be sweet to reach out and include him or her in your plans, maybe for a quiet meal, a movie or a concert.

Think beyond the traditional biological or adoptive father box, too. It’s a perfect time to honor good people who have been father figures in your life or the lives of friends and relatives.

Teachers, coaches, clergy, mentors, friends ... any admirable father or parental figure in your life, or those of your friends and loved ones, will appreciate your recognition and appreciation of his or her contributions today.

And never forget the best gift of all, for dads here and present, far away and recently or long-ago departed. Tell him: “I love you.”

Wherever your dad is, I believe he’ll get the message.

Happy Father’s Day.

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450. Follow her on Twitter @DerricksonMoore

Getting back into summer reading mode

By S. Derrickson Moore

dmoore@lcsun-news.com

LAS CRUCES — Whatever happened to those great summer beach books? And the time and inclination to enjoy them?

I was pondering that when I did our annual story about summer reading clubs at Thomas Branigan Memorial Library. 

They have clubs for tots, tweens, teens and adults. And there’s still time to sign up, by the way, and qualify for prizes that range from tote bags and movie tickets to a chance to win a limousine ride. 

It was great to see readers of all ages picking out books and curling up in cozy library nooks and crannies to enjoy a good read.

And I also realized it’s been a long time since my last visit to the library. I discovered they’ve  instituted a great, user-friendly self-checkout system in the interim.

I grew nostalgic for the days — not so long ago — when I devoured at least five to ten books every week and my passion for the written word knew no bounds. I was limited only by the seam-strength of my tote bags and library check-out quotas. In my reading heyday, I got around that one by having cards for several libraries in the metropolitan areas I lived in, supplemented with finds from the great indie, new-and-used bookstores that I always considered a prerequisite for long-term residence anywhere. (In Portland, Ore., it was legendary Powell’s, which colonized an entire big-city block; here, it’s Coas.)

I subscribed to a dozen magazines and several newspapers and managed to turn out a respectable number of book reviews.

When did it all end? And why?

I can trace it to July 21, 2007, when I read the last Harry Potter book, as usual, in one sitting, so I could do a timely review and return it promptly to grandson Alex the Great, then age 10 and among the 15 million fans who bought it in the first 24 hours after its release. (He and his cousins dressed up for the midnight release party and I was delighted to discover a long-awaited book could be a highlight of the summer for a new generation.) 

My spirit was willing, but my back and peepers were weak. After the first 400 pages, my eyes longed for soothing drops and cucumber spa sessions.

These days, I do almost of my reading and research online. I give at the office and then come home to my laptop and hours of DVD programs and documentaries. Add seemingly infinite amounts of electronic tablet information and smartphone tweets, Facebook and assorted other social media shenanigans, and I’m think I’m suffering from CSF (Chronic Screen Fatigue).

My retired, still-well-read sister says her Kindle inspires her to download and read lots of classic favorites and new books, but my CSF flares up every time I prepare to take the plunge.

I find myself longing for the comforting feel and sight of retro paper pages — and sometimes, retro subject matter. I find myself longing to reread old favorites. 

Marian Elzi, Young Adult librarian at the Branigan, led me through racks of vampire and “dystopian” choices, when a blast from the past caught my eye. Trixie Belden is nowhere to be found, but there was a whole rack of Nancy Drew books, in user-friendly, small paperback form.

The cover illustration of today’s Nancy looks like a teenage Cameron Diaz, and the mystery she’s solving involves Siberia bullying and sophisticated computer skills. But her best friends are still Bess and George, still recognizable as their distinctive selves. Boyfriend Ned and dad, attorney Carson Drew, are still supportive background players to the dynamic girl-power trio. And Nancy, who first appeared in the 1930s,  is still her slightly geeky, but brainy and beautiful self. And she still fearlessly unravels life’s mysteries with hands-on , real-time, on-site sleuthing.

It was just what I needed to get me back into summer reading mode. Old school and big time. 

I’ve got a sturdy, oversize tote bag and I’m ready to stock up on beach books.  

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450. Follow her on Twitter @DerricksonMoore

What I didn’t do on my vacation

By S. Derrickson Moore

dmoore@lcsun-news.com

I had ten whole days off. And I had plans. Big plans.

At first, I was consideringg a birthday visit to son Ryan in Portland, but scheduling snafus interfered.

I figured it was a perfect opportunity for a productive staycation.

I was going to get out the leaf blower and clean up my yard and hire someone to do some repair work. Then I was going to finally get around to taking advantage of lower interest rates and refinance my house.

I sprinted through some pre-vacation extras to help my colleagues who are juggling new duties and new positions.

Then, I’d planned to zip home after work and whip up something delicious for an impromptu gathering to honor our late, great moms — some recently departed.

There were some reorganization projects in mind: closets to clean and reorganize for the summer, books and clothing to give away to worthy groups and organizations.

I was determined to design my own spa week, finally getting back to exercising every day, alternating lap swims, weight training and hikes through the hood.

I was finally going to organize the contents of all my cartons of clippings, files and photos hastily rescued after the Sun-News fire.

I wanted to have leisurely lunches and dinners with dear friends and catch up on our adventures. And maybe zip off to Truth of Consequences for a healing soak and a beach walk before the summer crowds take over.

I was going to make sense of a health insurance snafu, because reaching a physician and insurer agreement on just one word amounted to a formidable sum.

After our first big rain of the year seemed to trigger every ache related to line-of-duty wounds and falls, I decided to start with the health insurance issues.

Maybe I gave too much at the office, but my usual communication skills seemed at an impasse. No matter how I tried, via visits, faxes and phone calls, I couldn’t seem to convey the clear-to-me insurance mandates to the doctor and his staff.

I began to suspect this was not meant to be a productive, working staycation.

The aches got worse. I took a nap. And more naps. I watched old movies and documentaries. I napped some more and went to bed early.

Occasionally, I made an effort. I surveyed the yard and picked up a piece of windblown litter: an innocent-looking paper towel. It was embedded with prickly desert passengers. I tweezed out the prickers, decided it was an omen and took a nap.

I called my friends, wished them well and asked if we could do our mom’s day memorial another year.

Then I took a nap.

I went swimming twice and hiked a few blocks, about 20 percent of my regular workout regimen, but enough to warrant a few more naps, I decided. I went through everything in my DVR and watched several movies, many for the second time.

I didn’t research delicious, nutritious new recipes. More in the mood to nap than shop, let alone cook, I decided to use up all my fresh produce and live on salads.

At the end of the week, I took stock. Despite my laziness, inactivity and lack of culinary creativity, I’d lost five pounds.

I checked out my yard, where a windstorm had blown in more leaves, twigs and prickly litter. If I had cleaned it up, it would be dirty again anyway, I realized. And I might as well wait a few more weeks before hiring someone to clean it all and prune my pines.

In one of the trees sat a skinny-looking hummingbird. He was still there and aggressively vibing me an hour later, so I spent a few minutes to retrieve the hummer feeder from the garage, fill it with sugar water and hang it on the patio.

Then I took a nap.

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450. Follow her on Twitter @DerricksonMoore