On The Silly Side by Jimmy Del Ponte

(The opinions and views expressed in the commentaries of The Somerville News belong solely to the authors of those commentaries and do not reflect the views or opinions of The Somerville News, its staff or publishers.)

Wednesday, June 11: I get the call from my daughter, the family planner, asking where I want to eat for Father’s Day – I tell her Bertucci’s and she says that’s fine, but don’t let her brothers (10 and 12 years old) talk me into another place. They would choose The Outback or Texas Roadhouse. I figured there would be less of a wait at Bertucci’s.

I also said the same words that my Dad used to say to me when I asked him what he wanted for a gift: ‚ÄúI don’t need a thing, so please don’t waste your money.‚Äù I know she will get me at least three gifts, which I know I will love.

I pictured a leisurely day on Sunday – we would go out to eat and then I could just go home and watch TV (and of course Game 5 of the Celtics-Lakers series). But instead, we had to eat early, because I had to go to a wake at 4 p.m., then take the kids to a rehearsal for the play they are in at 5 (Arlington Children’s Theatre production of ‚ÄúWest Side Story‚Äù). I also had to stay at the rehearsal because it was my turn to help out.

I didn’t  really think that much about Father’s Day in terms of myself. I have been thinking about my own Dad up in that great Somerville in the sky. Memories of him filled my head on Sunday. In 1973, I had put $150 down on a new guitar at a sleazy music store in Medford – after four months and the guy continuously telling me it would be in ‚Äúany day‚Äù I finally asked for my deposit back and the slime-ball said he ‚Äúcouldn’t do that.‚Äù

Dad came down to the store with me and sternly asked ‚Äúdo you have this kid’s guitar?‚Äù When the crumb said no, Dad said: ‚Äúthen give him his money back!‚Äù And he did.

I also remember the time he lent me $5,000 to buy a used red 1979 Trans Am. He handed it to me in cash. After paying him back about $1,500, he told me to forget about the rest of the dough.

I still have a note that he left me when I was about 23 – an out of control, rock ‘n rolling wild man‚Ķit read: ‚ÄúJim, went  to get my ears lowered, don’t come home _ _ _ _ faced again like last night.‚Äù One time he told my friend Dennis to get his car out of his driveway or he would ‚Äútip it over.‚Äù He spoke like he was Superdad.

When he really got mad at me he would say these gems: ‚Äúsomeday the roof is going to fall in on you‚Äù or ‚Äúsomeday your mouth is going to get you in a lot of trouble‚Äù (and it has, trust me) and finally my favorite: ‚ÄúJimmy, I’ll nail you to the house!‚Äù

I’m 54 years old and have never been nailed – his words were very convincing and I rarely challenged him.

I can still see Dad sitting in Supreme Deli wearing his Kiss 108 jacket and his Yankees hat (he got so fed up with the Red Sox he jumped ship). I can also see him on Sunday morning in his boxer shorts reading the paper.

Every so often I’ll see a guy who looks like my father and I get that little burst of excitement, followed by a little lump in my throat. Have you been down to Davis Square lately? It’s like ‚ÄúDadville‚Äù there. You’ll see  a lot of  gray-haired elderly gentlemen with glasses down there – I just look at them and smile.

Dad loved the huge subs Ross Blouin used to make at McKinnon’s – he used to call them ‚Äúbombers.‚Äù I used to get out of work at 10:30 in the morning, drop into the restaurant to see Dad, and then head to Redbones (Barnaby’s). At least he always knew where to find me. He used to call me his ‚Äúright hand man‚Äù and I was proud of that. Dad used to talk extra loud on the phone so I would hear him. He used to say: ‚ÄúJimmy’s here, taking care of things, and I’d be lost without him.‚Äù

When my mother was near the end of her cancer, Dad and I worked together taking care of her – he was the General, and I was just an obedient corporal. Old Spice will always remind me of Dad.

I opened the funny cards from the boys and got teary when I read what my daughter added to her card. We ended up eating at The Outback – Nikki was mad because she felt like the boys got their way. We were in at 11 a.m. and out by Noon and it was awesome – no wait, no line, no crowds.

I felt like the luckiest guy in the world, being surrounded by my three kids (even though the boys got their sister ticked off by having a burping contest). We told more stories about my Dad, who the boys had never met. Man, he would  have loved his two grandsons, the same way he was crazy about his granddaughter Nikki.

So‚ĶFather’s Day turned out okay – I got scratch tickets and gift certificates to Sears. I watched the Celtics game Sunday night, and by the time you read this I hope they will have clinched it all at home.

I really felt like my Dad was with us on Sunday, and he probably was. I hope everyone had as great a Father’s Day as I did and if I can be half the father my Dad was, I will be a success.

Please e-mail your comments to Jimmy at: jimmydel@rcn.com