Father's Day 2010

I had arrived at his house five minutes earlier than expected. We left immediately, leisurely driving down Route 106, discussing family issues, the weather and just commenting on what a beautiful Saturday morning it was. We eased into traffic from Exit 9 on Route 3 and it was a quick mile and a half to the Independence Mall.

Dad commented that he usually parks over near Pizzeria Uno because the lot near the cinema is always full. I gamble that - at 11:20 AM - it would not be crowded. I was right.

We entered the Mall right at the cinema. As we walked towards the ticket booth Dad was scanning the wall for a poster of the film we were about to see. He was disappointed when he didn't see one. "I'm sure they'll have one inside," I said reassuringly.

While we waited in line Dad reminded me to ask for one adult and one senior citizen because "You get a discount, you know." He was right; I saved .50 cents on his ticket.

Tickets in hand, we walked across the front lobby towards the video games. Dad browsed the selection and stopped at a hunting game. "I used to be pretty good at shooting games," he said.

"Do you want to try your luck?" I asked. "I have .50 if you want it?"

He thought about it for a moment, then "No, that's okay. What time does the movie start?"

"12:10."

"We'd better go get our seats."

I look at my watch. It is 11:25. "Sure, Dad. Whatever you want."

As we walked down the darkened, empty corridor to theater #4, I spied a poster for our film. "Here you go, Old Man." We paused an looked at the grizzled black and white poster that showed head shots of our four heroes.

"Who's who?" Dad asked, squinting in the dim light.

"I pointed from the top left, "That's Hannibal. Here's Face, B.A., and Murdock."

Dad smiled and said, "This will be fun."

We entered the dimly lit theatre. Overly-loud movie Muzak was playing over the same three "trivia questions" that were repeated ad-nauseum. Dad chose our seats in the 2nd aisle from the back row, because he can see better from that distance. We took our seats and looked around. We laughed. At 11:28, we were the only two patrons seated in the theatre. By the time the movie started we were two of seven.

Dad had declined any popcorn of beverage as he was "saving his appetite" for the pizza and soda we were going to get after the movie.

For now we were locked and loaded and ready for "The A-Team".

We chatted for a while - eating up a half an hour with small talk - and then we sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Dad has a lot on his mind lately. I wondered what thoughts were racing through his head. He broke the silence and said, "This is a good day, me boy. Thank you."

"Thanks, Dad. I think so, too."

As the lights dimmed, Dad turned to me, smiled and said, "Here we go."

I love it when a plan comes together.