Father Knows Best

Having grown up in the 80s, I watched the first episode of ‘The Goldbergs’ a couple of weeks ago. I wanted to see what they would do with a family comedy set during that time period. My viewing was partially nostalgic and the other half was scared that I lived through so many horrible things – mostly the clothing. 

I can’t say it was the best comedy I’ve ever seen but it did remind me of a lot of awkward moments. One scene resonated very loudly with me. It reminded me of my own experience. The moment is when the father teaches his son to drive a car. I felt as though I was living that same moment right on my sofa. 

The father yelled at the son and the son yelled back. I flashed back to: 

“Angie!!What are you doing?! NO!!!!! “ screamed my father as he grabbed the steering wheel from the passenger seat. 

“You are smarter than that”, whenever I made a move that he didn’t think was correct.

“Use your head!!”, if I didn’t focus and follow ‘the rules of the road’. 

Ohhh I remember it well. I don’t mean that in an entirely good way. All the times I spent arguing with my dad in the car were so painful when they were happening but so funny now when I look back on them. It’s so present in my mind that I’ve written about it before (c.f. GP(api)S). 

The way the father reacted in the show also reminded me of my dad. The Goldberg dad seemed to constantly blow a gasket. When I was growing up, I wanted to stay as far away as possible from my dad when he was angry. Although he was a very tiny man, his voice bellowed over great distances. I often wanted to go to the Grand Canyon with my dad to see if his gravelly smoker’s voice would carry across the immense caverns. I guess I’ll never know now. 

Another thing about the show that reminded me of my dad was how the dad called the kids ‘idiot’ or ‘moron’. Whenever the father said something to his progeny, there was a subtitle to explain what the father meant when he said these mean things. It really was horrible to see the father’s inability to communicate effectively with his kids. However my dad was no better. He said many choice things to us in his own special way. Of course they sounded better being in Italian. 

Now that I think about a lot about what he said and look for meaning in those phrases, I do see that good intentions were there in his messages. Because he never had anyone express their emotions to him growing up, he had no idea how to do it for us. He definitely tried his best and sometimes it was good and sometimes it left much to be desired. In the end what I saw in that episode of “The Goldbergs” and in my dad’s communiqués was that perhaps subtitles are needed when it comes to understanding some people.