Prisoners

Leavenworth, Kansas

A few days ago I burnt the loft that has been my bed and my dog Lucius's room (bottom bunk) for the past decade. 14 years (12 for Lucius) of Minneapolis up in flames. Seems like a long time.

This morning we arrived in the lovely prison town of Leavenworth Kansas just in time to make it out to the gun range at Fort Leavenworth. Fort Leavenworth is an army base where my dad works. Like a typical army man, my dad likes to shoot guns. So we shoot skeet and trap.

Fort Leavenworth is famous for its military prison, which houses all the most famous military prisoners - the Fort Hood killer for instance and Chelsea Manning until recently. There are four other prisons in the area - none that share the glitz and glamour of Fort Leavenworth, where the prisoners raise buffalo for slaughter and are in it for the long haul. Much of the population of Leavenworth either works at a prison or has a prisoner for a family member.

On the way home from the shooting range we have our first argument. About Hillary Clinton's emails of all things.

"You know how fast I would lose my job if I sent classified information out in personal emails? She lied to congress. She destroyed evidence."

"How can you possibly still be fixated on Hillary Clinton's emails with all that's happened in the first few months of Trump's presidency? Are they still running Hillary Clinton email stories on Fox News?"

Later eating philly cheese steaks in the food court at the PX-

"I'm not so sure it was Russia. There are many countries in the world, Michael, that hate America. You're a computer programmer. I thought you'd know more about this."

"I think it's universally accepted that Russians hacked the DNC. Republicans don't even dispute that."

Then at the dog park-

"I'm more concerned that we elected a President who doesn't think climate change is real."

"Well, I think you may have drank the Kool-Aid on that one, Michael."

A decade back when I was going to the University of Minnesota I was peppersprayed at a demonstration against the closing of a school for disadvantaged students. My dad found an article about it on the internet and forwarded it out to all of our extended family. He included a link to an internet story about my uncle Chuck's purple heart for getting shot out of the sky in Vietnam. This he introduced with, "On the other hand, here's a story about a family member we can be proud of." I responded by sending an email to my dad and all of our extended family saying that I didn't think following orders was bravery and if I wanted to learn obedience I'd enroll in dog training school.

I don't expect to ever make my dad proud. That ship sailed a long time ago.

The next day is Saturday and we take my dad's canoe out. I've never been on it. It's a beautiful wooden canoe he handmade himself. He's good with things like that. He also taught himself how to sail when I was a toddler and we lived on Lake Superior. His other hobbies include melting lead into miniature soldier molds and painting entire armies of them. He builds remote control airplanes and fills his own shotgun cartridges. All of these hobbies I think are kind of cool, just not my thing.

We don't talk a whole lot on the canoe. When we do it's mostly about how I suck at steering. I like canoeing though. It's peaceful. The only sounds are birds and crickets. We oar and oar and oar until our shoulders are sore. We glide through the water. We're not facing each other so it's difficult to argue.

In the car heading back to the house we discuss my upcoming extended sabbatical in Latin America.

"I just don't know what's driving that train, Michael."

Back at the house we decide to drink beers and watch more of The Last Ship, a vaguely sci-fi post-apocalyptic military TV show we watched the last time I was here. I try to find a recycling bin for my empties and turns out that my dad's family doesn't recycle. Which of course blows up into another argument.

My step-mom Carolyn wants to recycle - she thinks they should collect their empties and drive them out to the recycling plant.

I think the city should have a recycling program.

My dad's not a big fan of recycling.

"I think that conservatives are anti-recycling just to be anti-liberal. The city could hire one guy to drive around and collect aluminum cans and it would make the city money. I can't imagine how you could possibly be opposed to recycling. Do you want more trash? It's a stupid fucking position."

It takes a few more beers and a new American President on The Last Ship before we get around to arguing about our family.

"The only time we had social services called on us was when Carolyn who supposed to be checking in on us did it! What do you honestly think my mom was spending your money on when you were overseas? Like she was wasting all our money at bars? Mom never went out and we were living off of Macaroni and Cheese and spaghetti. You're the one who went to the bars!"

Before I left Minneapolis I saw Marc Maron do a standup performance. He had a bit about the moment when you realize your father isn't as smart as you always that he was. I cheered really loud.

The thing is though, I still think my dad is smart. I want him to be happy and healthy. And he wants the same for me. We just can't see eye to eye on damn near anything. Maybe if I had grown up with him I'd be 13 years into a career in the army and on my 2nd marriage. Well, I didn't. So the best we can do is military sci-fi shows and American football.

It's harder when it's not football season.

Sunday morning Lucius and I wake up early and I say my goodbyes to my father's family in Leavenworth. Ahead of me lies a 14-hour drive to Texas. Hitting the highway feels like freedom.