Send to Friend

By Won Kim

Back in high school when popularity was at the top of my list of things to achieve (right next to varsity letter and a date to the prom), I was given an automatic ticket to coolness by my parents of all people. For some reason, they thought I was responsible and deserving enough to receive a Jeep Wrangler for my senior year. Granted, it was a hand-me-down, but still, anything that had a grill in the front and large wheels meant that I was rolling into school with cool written all over me.

I'm going to skip the details when my parents took away the Jeep a few months later, but let's just say, from September to December, I felt like the pubescent version of George Clooney, only if he happened to live in Missouri and had a face full of pimples.

Here's the funniest thing about driving a Jeep. There is a natural bond and recognition that takes place with others who drove similar four-wheel, gas-guzzling monsters. If stuck at a red light, I would nod at other Jeep drivers. On rare occasions, I would lower the music to yell out "nice rims" or something to that effect. These kinds of episodes continue to be reiterated throughout my life outside of the Jeep context.

Whether it was sharing nods with someone donning St. Louis paraphernalia or having small talk with someone in the media industry, the connectivity aspect still lives on. Lately, I've noticed my inclination to observe fathers, like, everywhere-in the mall, on the subway, walking in the park, at coffee shops, in my neighborhood, etc. On rare occasions, I will even take my iPod earphones off to say, "cute kid" or something to that effect.

Here's a little fact that I hope I'm not alone in sharing: fatherhood isn't that easy. Between working to feed the family, balancing the checkbook, changing diapers or potty training or shooing monsters away from the closet, there isn't much time to reflect on how the heck you're actually doing. I find myself relieved if my boy falls asleep without an episode at the dinner table.

That's where other dads come in. Who else outside of our spouses and close friends actually notices our journey into fatherhood? As you know, there's a journey "into" fatherhood, but never a journey out. Like a secret society, once in, there's no going back. So, next time you see a dad strolling their baby at the mall or sharing a pancake with their daughter at a local diner or walking hand-in-hand with their son in a park, why not show some recognition or better yet, ask them how it's going.

Trust me, there's nothing cooler than being a dad.