I was looking through my computer today when I came across this note that I wrote about my father a couple of years ago. I thought I would share it here

I bought my dad a newspaper the other day. That’s nothing special, I buy him one most days when I visit. Today he told me I don’t need to buy him a paper every day. It’s too expensive and not that important.

It got me thinking about the role of newspapers and how relevant they have been in my life with my father.

Early 1970’s

Dad: Want to go for a walk with me to buy a newspaper? 
Me:   Only if it’s the Daily Mail, so I can read Fred Basset. Can I have a puppy?
Dad:  You can have the paper after I’ve read it. 

We walk to the shops. When I say walk, one of us skips. I’ll leave you to guess which one. But it was the one that was old enough to recognise that he didn’t say no but too young to realise that doesn't mean yes.

The paper didn’t seem that important.

Late 70’s

Dad: Can you buy me a Daily Mail on your way home?
Me:   This is slavery. I have to do everything for you. Why can’t you leave me alone?

I “forget” to buy the paper but manage to spend the paper money.

The paper didn’t seem that important.

Early 80’s

Dad: Can you get me a Daily Mail on your way home?
Me:   I can’t believe you read that fascist rag. You are such an embarrassment, why can’t you read a proper paper. 
Dad: I like the sports pages.

I “forget” to buy the paper again.

It didn’t seem important anyway.

Late 80’s

Dad: Are you coming home this weekend? Your Mum is missing you.
Me: Wasn’t planning to, but I can if you want.
Dad: I don’t want, but your mum would be glad to see you. Buy me a paper on the way.
Me: The weekend is days away. Don’t you want a paper before then?
Dad: Yes, but sometimes it isn’t just about the newspaper.

I reluctantly buy a Daily Mail on the way to visit.

As if it were important.

Early 90’s

Dad: Your mum has cooked enough for an army. She was thinking you might like to come for dinner on your way home?
Me:  That sounds great, do you want me to buy you a paper?
Dad: Okay, but get me a Times.
Me:  Have you finished with that fascist rag then?
Dad: The sports pages aren’t as good as they were.

I resignedly bought him the Times. At least it’s not the Daily Mail.

That is important.

Late 90’s

Dad: Your mother says you’ve not been for a while. When are you going to visit?
Me: I’m a little busy at the moment. I’ve got lots on.
Dad: You don’t have to stay long and we are on your way home from work. Why not pop in for a few minutes? It will make her happy.
Me: Okay Dad, I’ll come round tonight on my way home.
Dad: Great, bring me a newspaper.

I “accidentally” buy him the Guardian since the paper wasn’t specified.

It didn’t seem important.

The 00’s

Dad: Do they have the Times in Scotland?
Me: Yes, why?
Dad: Can you bring me a copy when you come down at the weekend? I want to see if it is any different to the one we have here?
Me: Do you just want me to buy you a paper?
Dad: No, the paper isn’t important. But since you are coming then get me one anyway.

2018

Dad: You don’t always have to buy me a paper, Son.
Me: I get it Dad, it isn’t the paper that is important.

Now

Today I bought a paper. I didn't read it. It isn't important.

I miss you today Dad.