Usually, men like to watch sports.  Or action shows.  Spike TV.  Basically…anything that can be constituted as stereotypically manly.

manly (ˈmænlɪ)   — adj , -lier , -liest

1.      possessing qualities generally regarded as appropriate to or typical of a man; masculine.

My dad, on the other hand, likes Home and Garden Television and Food Network.  For those of us unfamiliar with these channels, let’s first look at HGTV.  HGTV shows programs about decorating and buying homes, sprucing up gardens and landscaping around your abode, etc.   Food Network is pretty self-explanatory; it’s all about food!  Basically, all of these are programs typically classified as more girly than, say, Spike TV or ESPN.

girl·y

[gur-lee]  – adjective, noun.

1.      Possessing qualities that are usually appealing to women.  Makes manly men squeamish.

Now, Dad isn’t the type of guy to be called girly in any way, and with all fairness he does watch sports…sometimes.  But HGTV and Food Network are where his true passions lie.  Whenever I visit home during breaks from Concordia, I find him with his eyes glued to the screen of House Hunters International, Divine Design, 30 Minute Meals…the list goes on and on. With the amount of time he spends watching those shows, that should make him some sort of expert.  He has even taken the time to analyze the decorating style in our family home.

“Suzanne.  I think I have pinned it down.  Your mother and I, our style is a mixture between old English and post-colonial Spanish.”

…whatever that means.  I love Dad and I fully support his quest for increasing his HGTV knowledge, but…the perfect way I’d describe the style in our house can be summed up in one word: Montana.  Our house is filled with anything that has been made in Montana or what you’d expect to see in Montana.  Paintings of buffalo, mountain goats, geese and Montana landscapes line the walls.  Photos and paintings of our hometown, Butte, MT are scattered everywhere there is empty space.  The color scheme is all about the earthy tones.  Heck, our fireplace is even made out of a stone my parents personally handpicked – “Montana River Rock.”  Old English? Not quite.

My dad’s most recent fascination has been with bear wood carvings.  There’s a tree in our yard that, due to an unfortunate and incurable tree disease, has been deemed Dad’s Latest Project.  He figures that since it’s going to be torn down anyhow, he might as well do something with it.  HGTV to the rescue!

Here’s the link for wood carver my dad was interested in contacting:

http://woodsculpture.net/Woodsculpture.net/Welcome.html

I must admit that the artist’s work is pretty spectacular.  But, I’m not going to lie…when it came down to a decision between a possible hot tub and a wood carving on the tree, I sided with the hot tub.  What’s the best way for a Cobber to relax during breaks and summer holidays away from Concordia?  If you said staring at a wood carving, that’s a nice try.  But no.  Hot tub, please!  Sadly I didn’t win the battle. And I’m still not sure if bear wood carvings fit into the old English or post-colonial Spanish category, but my dad is pretty happy with the idea nonetheless.  Maybe one day there’ll be a bear waiting for me in my backyard.  For now, this idea remains in the planning stage.

I also mentioned Food Network earlier.  My dad has taken plenty of useful tips and tricks from Food Network shows and has tried to impart some wisdom to me at Concordia.  Alas, I live the dorm life, so I don’t have a kitchen to call my own.  The most cooking I do these days is the grueling process of microwaving Easy Mac.   The information he gives me usually isn’t applicable; I appreciate it anyways.  I keep hoping he’ll take what he’s learned and make dinner for me sometime.

Although he’s never attempted to cook dinner for the family on his own, he tries to help my mom out when he can.  Dad’s definition of helping is to sit at the breakfast bar in our kitchen and point out what he thinks Mom should do differently.  It’s pretty funny to watch them interact.

“Kathy, did you know that if you spice the chicken this certain way that Emeril showed me, it turns out more flavorful?  I don’t know if you’re doing it quite right.”

“Greg, are you doing the cooking right now?”

“No…”

“Then shush.”

He’ll never try to cook on his own – maybe the thought of tricky oven knobs, burner thing doodles, and what-cha-ma-call it’s seem intimidating – but there’s still hope for him.  I have heard rumors of Dad cooking during his bachelor days in college.  But I have yet to see photographic evidence of this or any attempts to cook me dinner.

I’ve come to a conclusion.  Even though my dad’s interests aren’t typically what I’d expect him to have, I love him dearly and I think it makes him unique.  He hasn’t tried any hands-on applications for the knowledge he learned from HGTV and Food Network, but that’s okay.  Maybe he’s more of a scholarly type and the pursuit of decorating theory and cooking research are what he prefers.

…but maybe, JUST maybe over Christmas break I can persuade him to spread the holiday cheer by decorating the living room and cooking with me.