In praise of dear old dad

Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.

RN: Tell me a story about Claude Sr., it being Father's Day and all.

CP: Well, let's see. Despite the myriad ways I disappointed him -- renouncing golf, fishing, meat, church and heterosexuality, to name a few -- he didn't really seem to mind. But that's not exactly a story.

RN: You overlooked your disdain for his beloved Brooks Brothers.

CP: Don't forget Gokey. He worshiped that line of overkill outdoorsy products via catalog. But whenever he visited me in the Twin Cities, he wanted to go to the downtown St. Paul store. As he lived in suburban Chicago, I never fully understood his fascination with their famed snakeproof boots. Of course, by then I was more interested in finding a smart espadrille for a patio party.

RN: Wow. Until now, I didn't believe that rumor about how your dad was one of the source materials behind "The Official Preppy Handbook."

CP: You asked for a story. There was the time I brought two city-slicker college friends on a Brule River canoe trip. There were two tipovers during the voyage, each of them involving my dad trying to paddle in the stern with one of my greenhorn pals in the bow. I stayed dry all day, but my dad lost his cherished Pentax camera in the rapids. Still, he remained relatively calm.

CP: I cringe to think of either of my parents observing me engaged in the human drama of athletic competition. I was well below par in both gymnastics and soccer. Instead of cheering, my dad must have just rolled his eyes invisibly.

RN: That's another great thing about my dad: He has always been behind me 100 percent. At a father-son banquet, when all the other dads were introducing their offspring by detailing their endless athletic accomplishments -- and I was wondering just what in the heck Dad was going to say about me -- he turned to the crowd and said, "This is Ricky, and he's a very good reader."

CP: Which I'm sure you hated hearing.

RN: Surrounded by all those pre-teen jocks, I was probably mortified. Secretly, of course. We were emotionless Lutherans, after all.

CP: But in the long view, thank you, Dad.

E-mail: witheringglance@startribune.com.

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