I boycotted Father's Day this year. Not for the expected reason. I just couldn't handle another Man Church spectacle. Last year the theme (yes, there's a theme) was sports. Because fathers are practically men, and men like sports. (On Mother's Day this same church taught me -- again -- that woman and mother are synonyms.)
Last Father's Day, I walked into the church building and grabbed a water bottle from one of two giant ice troughs, declined the free popcorn, and headed up to the balcony. The excitement was almost as palpable as the spilled popcorn underfoot. I looked down onto what used to be the stage but was now a mini football field. The musicians were wearing baseball -- basketball -- whatever kind of jersey they could find, I guess.
The next hour and a half was a blur of cheerleaders, a dancing mascot, clips of sportscasters, a referee blowing the whistle on the pastor's (rehearsed) bad jokes, halftime entertainment, live competitions, prizes, and T-shirts launched into the
This year the theme was Nascar. I just couldn't.