I don’t know if it was true for previous generations, but I got so much of my “ethical instruction” from songs that I would here over and over on the radio. Whether it was the Beatles telling me that, “All you need is love”, or The Supremes invoking the Golden Rule in, “Let me get over you the way you’ve gotten over me”, or a hundred different songs from a raft of insightful lyricists.

But of all the lyrics all those songs, I sometimes wonder how much the sad and ironic lyrics of Harry Chapin’s song has saved my generation of male-type parents from making the mistake that many of our dads made not playing a larger role in parenting and thus contributed to my own kids’ generation.

Chapin sings…

My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin’ ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew
He’d say “I’m gonna be like you dad
You know I’m gonna be like you”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin’ home dad?
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then son
You know we’ll have a good time then

I still can’t hear it (or even read the lyrics) without chills going down my spine, and it can be a painful experience, even today, to listen to the whole song. I’m not sure why it is still so painful. It’s not like I ignored Chapin’s strongly implied advice. I have spent as much time with my kids as any dad I think. I guess it is just so profoundly sad to choose to miss the opportunity to give the gift of your self, your love, and your wisdom (a gift no one else in the universe can give) to your progeny.

My son turned ten just the other day
He said, “Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let’s play
Can you teach me to throw”, I said “Not today
I got a lot to do”, he said, “That’s ok”
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, “I’m gonna be like him, yeah
You know I’m gonna be like him”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin’ home son?
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then son
You know we’ll have a good time then

I don’t know if anybody has studies to back this up, but at least anecdotally, among the male parents I know, they seem to be more involved in their kids’ lives than the dads of my own peers growing up. I can remember that as a teenager I barely got to know several of my best friends’ dads (even being often at their houses), though I did get to know their moms. I know all my kids’ good friends, at least the ones that pass through our house.

Well, he came home from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
“Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?”
He shook his head and said with a smile
“What I’d really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin’ home son?
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then son
You know we’ll have a good time then

That verse still stings sometimes because it makes me wonder if my own kids know how proud I am of them, and then, whether “pride” is even the right term, and what separates an appropriate acknowledgment of them as emerging human beings developing their own agency with patriarchal narcissism at ones progeny.

I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind”
He said, “I’d love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job’s a hassle and kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, Dad
It’s been sure nice talking to you”

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He’d grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin’ home son?
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then son
You know we’ll have a good time then

How could the “narrator” of Chapin’s song ever recover from the implications of that last conversation with his son? The gravity of it made me swear to myself, even as an adolescent, that I would never let that happen to me. I am truly curious how many of my fellow travelers, male in this current incarnation, have been similarly affected.