I am not sure if there is anything more Father’s Dayish than fixing a kid’s bike tire. Yet that is exactly what I found myself doing on Father’s Day.
I don’t offer this up as some sentimental Hallmark movie moment of father-child bonding. I just thought it was stereotypically comical it was occurring on Father’s Day, I mentioned it to my wife, but also noted that mosquitoes and sweat were also big contributors to the day’s narrative, so let’s not go over the top with sentimentality.
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There are a lot of things people in the same household can’t agree on. Which way is the toilet paper supposed to go on the roll? How often should you use a towel before it goes in the wash? Should toothpaste be squeezed from the bottom or randomly each time throughout the tube creating a disastrous amorphic blob of disgusting? (Answers: Over the top; meh, two or three; and obviously from the bottom unless you are clearly a monster.)
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Today’s column is a reflection on two fronts: Common courtesy and plastic bag bans. And first, my usual disclaimer when I dip a toe anywhere near political issues: I’m not going to get political. In 20-plus years of writing this column, I don’t get political. I did write a column once about 15 years ago about how maybe we’d all be better served by ignoring vicious political attack ads, and that didn’t end well for my inbox, so if you have a strong opinion on plastic bag bans, super! But I’m not really here to debate that.
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