Stuff Frat People Like: Dads

Now I know most of my columns are devoted to the many vices of fraternity men, including but not limited to: binge drinking, raw dogging sorostitutes, and general socially unacceptable behavior. But today, I’d like to take a step back and acknowledge something a little more serious. While our lifestyles contain plenty of recklessness and hilarity, today I want to point out what made all of this fraternal nonsense possible: our fathers.

Skimming the site, it’s fairly obvious that 98% of my readers’ fathers are either wealthy investment bankers, or CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. While a significant portion of you are probably just lying to get posted on TFM, the core respect and honor for our fathers is still prevalent. Truth be told, even though my own old man is no CEO (just a normal guy, really…he’s a VP), the fact remains that we all owe a significant portion of our habits and personalities to the father-and-son bonds we formed early in life, regardless of their occupation. Sure, you spend every gameday weekend funneling beers until you can no longer feel your extremities, but remember where it all began. Your father was the one who would sneak you a beer at family gatherings, and with a high-five and a smile he’d remind you, “Don’t tell mom.” You may brag about your successful hunting or fishing outings, but he was the one who taught you how to properly tie a lure and load a shotgun. You may feel like a badass for taking down yet another top-tier slam, but he was the one who taught you how goddamned crazy women are, and how to sift through their never ending hordes of bullshit. No matter how you look at it, you owe a lot to good old Dad.

Granted, in our college years the opportunities to bond with our fathers can wear thin. Any phone calls between you two are typically reserved for business matters, like hearing his latest fishing stories or discussing fantasy football strategies. Obviously a sharp contrast from our mothers, who call regularly to make sure every aspect of our lives is okay (we still love them for it, it’s just a different connection). I’m here to tell you to take advantage of the moments you have, because one day you’ll surely be hoping your own son does the same.

Not all of our dads are hugely successful business tycoons, and I’m willing to bet several of your fathers weren’t even in fraternities to begin with, but these facts are irrelevant. Through life, the things that you’ll remember are not how hard your father raged in college, or how successful he was, but the lessons he imparted on you when you needed them most. He was the one who took you to the ZZ Top concert, because mom “just didn’t get it.” He taught you the ins-and-outs of football, the sport we all enjoy so dearly today. He remembers your first fish, probably even better than you do. Without our fathers, we’d all just be poor, misguided, alcoholic mongrels. Be sure to let him know you appreciate him putting up with all your childhood and teenage nonsense. He’ll be glad you did.

  1. FratrickBatemen

    Dads are the best. Mines from dirty jersey, never in a frat and was poor as fuck growing up. He’s a self made man who’s pretty successful now. Despite all these superficial differences we are still like the same people and I have no qualms saying my dad is and always will be my best friend. In fact I’m glad he’s not fratty. It means our relationship isn’t based on legacy and status and what not but just genuine appreciation, pride and love.

    13 years ago at 7:54 pm
  2. RandPaul

    “Role Model” can’t sum what my father is to me. My mother has had serious health issues for the past 25 years, her and my father just celebrated their 29th wedding anniversary. Not many men in todays world would be able to tolerate his spouses health issues the way he has. I am not ashamed to say when I was littlle, my family was very poor. Through faith, hard-work, and the desire to give my mother, brother I a better life, my father is now a VP at one of the largest Hospital Chains the Southeast. He passed up a with the potential to make more than twice what he makes now because, in his words “I couldn’t work for those damn crook bastards and look my family in their faces.” My father is my best friend, and this article far and away is the best ever on this site.

    Sorry for the rant

    13 years ago at 8:23 pm
  3. ClassicCityDelta

    I actually read this entire column. Great article! Love a man who appreciates his parents!

    13 years ago at 9:25 pm
  4. Pharaoh of Frats

    Yeah my dad is no CEO either… Just your regular old Florida Cracker cattle rancher. Basic stuff.

    13 years ago at 10:12 pm
  5. MississippiGentleman

    This was a fantastic article. I always loved and respected my father, but over the past few years, that bond has grown tenfold. He was the president of 7 companies and was out of town a lot during the week. When I was in high school though, he made sure that he was still in town every friday night by 7 to watch me play football. And when baseball season came around, he didn’t miss many of those games either. In fact, I can probably count on one hand the number of times he missed any of my games, and I played baseball since I was 4. My father is successful and commits every ounce of himself to his career. That is until it conflicts with 18 holes with me, dinner with my mom or being home to help his daughter with school. A true gentleman in every aspect and I thank God every night that I am a part of his family. He not only told me, but showed me how to live the correct way every day, and continues to do so. Here’s to hoping your relationship with your father is similar. We wouldn’t be anything without them.

    13 years ago at 10:48 pm
  6. Fratty Face Nelson

    Great column, really makes me appreciate all the stuff my dad has done for me and taught me thus far in my life. Without him I would not be anywhere near the man I am today.

    13 years ago at 12:18 am
  7. TKE67

    The best article I’ve read. I’ll never respect anyone as much as I respect my father.

    13 years ago at 2:52 am