Tag Archives: Father’s Day

Fair-weather friends

Fickle, thy name is golf announcer.

You can quote me on that.

U.S. Open - Round TwoI watched as much of the US Open Golf Tournament this past weekend as my work schedule allowed.

The leader board morphed and changed throughout the four-day tourney at Merion Golf Club in Ardmore, Pennsylvania.

But nothing compared to the announcers’ ever-changing opinions and support of the players at the top.

When Phil Michelson was leading the pack going into Sunday, they couldn’t say enough about his talent and the timing, with his birthday and Father’s Day all coming together.  He could finally erase all the other runner-up finishes at the Open.

When he failed to deliver?  They just wrote it off to “missed opportunities.”  There were no shows of support, no explanations.

Phil just messed up.

As other golfers took the lead — Mahan, Day, Els — the announcers’ support surged and waned.  They could always explain who was best, and just as quickly write them off.  Might as well keep them behind the microphone, though –

They’d be murder on a real relationship.

Lessons learned

What a difference a year makes.

Just ask Google.

Father’s Day 2011

Last year I spanked them for the Father’s Day tribute on their homepage.  Sure, they remembered Dad, but the gesture was minimal, stereotypical and lacked animation — a sad effort compared to their extravagant nods to Les Paul and PacMan.

Dad deserves better.

Google Fathers Day 2012

And this year, Google delivered.  Their team has developed not only an animated tribute, but a charming story with heart and sweetness worthy of the man of the hour.

Nice work, Google.  I knew you had it in you.  It just took a little tough love to get the job done right.

Rather fitting on Father’s Day, don’t you think?

In good company

I made a new friend today in the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport.

We had electricity.

Actually, he did. He was seated next to an electrical outlet in the gate area, the only one I was able to find. And he wasn’t using it. If I wanted to, I was going to have to sit on the floor…or ask him to move down to the next open seat.

I asked and offered some candy as a bargaining chip. He said that ‘being nice’ was reward enough.

So I took his seat and charged my phone for the next hour. And I learned that he worked in Dallas and lived in Boston — where we were both headed — making the flight home every two-to-three weeks. Today he was going home for Father’s Day. His daughter was picking him up at the airport.

And when we eventually parted company to find our respective seats on the plane, I couldn’t help but think…

She’s one lucky girl.