I hope to be a father someday.
And I'm thinking ahead to all the geeky times my child (or children!) and I could have.
I imagine standing before a bookshelf with my daughter, pointing out the comics that might appeal to her, acting as a sort of comics librarian in my own home.
I imagine singing along to They Might Be Giants with my son as he takes me for a ride in his brand-new car, the one with the "My Other Car is the Millennium Falcon" bumper sticker.
I imagine losing track of an entire afternoon with my daughter as we run a marathon of our favorite anime series, and being amazed at how much of the Japanese she understands.
I imagine taking my son by the hand and walking along in the dusky October evening, chuckling a little at seeing my young Mr. Spock toting around a bucket filled with candy.
I imagine tipping over a huge container filled to the brim with my old LEGOs and building an empire with my children that spans the whole of the living room carpet.
I imagine sitting down with my daughter and her friends at a long wooden table and killing each and every one of them because they were not strong enough to defeat my crafty red dragon, and then, after getting punched in the arm by my daughter, finding a way to bring them back to life.
I imagine dusting off my ancient NES and hearing a little voice say, "Daddy, what is that? Is it a toaster?" And then my son and I will sit down together and play Gradius together, as my father and I once did.
After blowing on the cartridge a dozen times, of course.
It's hard to tell what the future may hold. Perhaps there will be no children for me. Perhaps my child, or my children, will scorn my long-held passions and ignore my invitations to watch this or to play that.
I'm willing to deal with that.
My geek passions run deep, but not as deep as the love that I as a father would hope to have for my child. The reason I want to geek out with my kids is the reason I write on this blog: I want to share the things that are a part of my life, the things that help to make me who I am. Even if my kids merely understand my passions, we will have that much more of a connection than we would if they did not. Being able to relate to my child at all is far more important to me than whether or not we can go to conventions together.
I don't forsee my father ever sitting down and playing an entire game of Civilization III with me. Likewise, I don't forsee me ever sitting down and watching an entire night of Monday Night Football with my dad unless the Bengals are playing, and that's only because their helmets are the coolest. That doesn't stop us from watching Stargate or singing in a choir together (Dad and me, not me and the Bengals).
The future is a long way off. At least, the future where I need to decide how old my child should be before it's appropriate to read The Goon. (Answer: Four months. At least, that's how long I had to wait until Alex lent it to me.) In the meantime, I have plenty of people with whom I can share my interests, and plenty of fandoms yet to be discovered that will ultimately bring me closer to the people in my life.
Sharing interests and growing closer with one another... Seems like a much better reason for Father's Day than just an excuse to get a new tie.