A 'Super' Sunday
This morning around 6, as I was shuffling into the grocery store near my house, I saw two weathered men on a nearby bench. They looked like many of the other unauthorized residents that live in the canyons of my suburb. One was younger and eyeing me; the other, older and oblivious. He was too busy talking into a cell phone in rapid, animated Spanish. It took me only a few minutes to buy the remaining ingredients for my husband’s breakfast in bed (a hearty meal complemented by cards, the sports pages and our bedroom TV remote on the tray), so the older man was still talking loudly as I left. I listened all the way home but could only make out one sentence, one I’d heard going into the store too. “I love you.” The elder man said it repeatedly and each time he did his voice raised an octave.
That’s when it dawned on me the man was talking to his family back home. Maybe it was Mexico. Maybe El Salvador, Guatemala or some other Latin American country. Maybe the younger man was his son; he certainly had a protective air about him. Or maybe he was just another illegal immigrant who wanted to make his friend’s Father’s Day by furnishing a prepaid phone and the minutes to make an international call.
That afternoon, my daughter and I went to see an advanced screening of Superman Returns at MCAS Miramar. (My husband, never one for crowds, declined an offer to join us.) The star, a newcomer named Brandon Routh, came for a meet and greet before what turned out to be the first major advance screening of the film in the nation. I predict big things for this guy and this movie. The film is very, very good.
All around me were military families. I saw some men fresh off the line truly enjoying their sons and daughters; many others were absent, no doubt deployed in the Middle East. Those kids were encouraged to send their dad special cards Warner Bros. had brought as part of its promotion.
Say what you will about the politics surrounding these two very different situations. But both types of fathers that I witnessed today temporarily live and work in hostile environments to help put food on the family table back home. I, for one, salute you and all the other men out there doing a super job.
That’s when it dawned on me the man was talking to his family back home. Maybe it was Mexico. Maybe El Salvador, Guatemala or some other Latin American country. Maybe the younger man was his son; he certainly had a protective air about him. Or maybe he was just another illegal immigrant who wanted to make his friend’s Father’s Day by furnishing a prepaid phone and the minutes to make an international call.
That afternoon, my daughter and I went to see an advanced screening of Superman Returns at MCAS Miramar. (My husband, never one for crowds, declined an offer to join us.) The star, a newcomer named Brandon Routh, came for a meet and greet before what turned out to be the first major advance screening of the film in the nation. I predict big things for this guy and this movie. The film is very, very good.
All around me were military families. I saw some men fresh off the line truly enjoying their sons and daughters; many others were absent, no doubt deployed in the Middle East. Those kids were encouraged to send their dad special cards Warner Bros. had brought as part of its promotion.
Say what you will about the politics surrounding these two very different situations. But both types of fathers that I witnessed today temporarily live and work in hostile environments to help put food on the family table back home. I, for one, salute you and all the other men out there doing a super job.
