Second Chances

My grandson, Dan, will be four months old on Monday.
I turn 62 in a month, yet I feel I have known him all of my life.




We laugh at the same things and delight in using our "outside voices" when watching television. Burps, farts and pratfalls are sophisticated comedy as far as we're concerned. And, though he's not yet able, I'm sure that Dan will soon join me in an intricately planned raid on grandma's candy cupboard.
Yes sir, the circus train has left the station and two major clowns are the engineers.

Though I only saw him a couple of times a year, my grandpa Fred Copper was one of the foremost influences on my life. He and I could talk for hours about everything from baseball to

slapstick comedy and never grow tired of each other. (Well, he may have, but he never let on.) There is something in that generation skipping buffer that invites a closeness that is, at least in some cases, superior to parent and child. Maybe it's the unconditional nature of a grandparent's love that facilitates a closeness that a parent subconsciously fears.

I don't know, but it IS different.

Fathers of sons have, for my money, the toughest job in parenting. You worry that if you are too soft on a boy you do him a disservice in that he knows nothing of life's hardships and becomes a man who "can't take a punch". On the other hand, if a father hands out a non-stop curriculum of criticism and an unforgiving demand for toughness and attention to detail, he risks losing forever the love of his son. It's a very delicate balance.

I lucked out. I have two wonderful daughters who looked to me for laughs during their formative years. A son probably would have killed me.

I'll leave it to Dan's dad, Doug, to carry the heavy father load.

Grandpa will be in the bullpen; always ready with the comic relief.

I still recall the answer I gave when at age 5 grandpa Copper asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I said, "I want to be a bum."

Not missing a beat, he said, "That's fine. Just make sure that you are a RICH bum."

I took his advice and got into broadcasting.

When the time comes for me to ask Dan the same question I'm hoping that he aspires to slightly more lofty goals than his grandpa had. But, no matter what his answer, my reply will always be the same: "Be a rich one Danny, be a RICH one."

We grandpa Coppers pass on the wisdom of the ages.