Posts Tagged Father’s Day
by Mike Manjos on June 1st, 2010As time passes, Father’s Day is the time of year that has evolved and become most poignant to me. Both as a father, and as a son, it has taken on different sentiments over the years.
Patek Philippe’s tag line is “You never actually own a Patek Philippe. You merely look after it for the next generation.” Although marketing campaigns seldom resonate with me, this one does, because it demonstrates a respect for the past and fascination for the future, which is at the core of what it means to own a Patek.
The truth is any Patek Philippe is the best watch to give and receive on Father’s Day. From a simple Calatrava 5119 to the complication of the 5960, all pieces embody the affections of generations of children toward their fathers – and vice versa.
by Terry Betteridge on June 1st, 2010
For dads, Father’s Day is a funny, wistful time to enjoy some time with the family: the children and adopted friends of kids, the parents of school friends who themselves become part of the family. It’s a day to see the structure you’ve built, and grown, and to enjoy the warmth and shelter of it. So often, dads go largely unnoticed. Dads commute, battle tough businesses, teach and toil- usually out of sight; however, it’s really nice to be seen once in awhile.
Simple gifts from kids and wives take on the sentimentality that is the currency of love for the family. The great thing, the silly one, the pocket knife from mom, pulled out to open the morning mail – each become a small monument and message of these bonds. It’s the point to this odd little holiday, to recognize and add to these ties that we so happily let bind.
by Terry Betteridge on June 1st, 2009
Dads are pretty tough to buy for. My pop claimed never to need a thing, and the truth was, he didn’t. He was the sort of guy that could make a roof and a bed and be right at home in any place where he happened to find himself. Cars, clothes and anything new just didn’t appeal to him. But if someone he cared about gave him something…
There was the stupid hat, worn to death (literally), a gift from my sister, and the cufflinks, worn mowing the lawn and mixing cement, a present from his Dad.
It was the thought, and his constant remembrance of that thought, that made these gifts something he wanted so much, when he needed so little.