I Wish Kyle Chandler Was My Dad

It wouldn’t be perfect. No father-son relationship ever is. We would have our weird tensions and our testosterone-driven show-downs over this or that territorial perception. There would be failures. Kyle Chandler might be a great dad, but he’s also a human being, and there’s no such thing as a perfect dad. One night, when I was grown and out of the house and the baseball gloves hadn’t been picked up much less oiled in years, after we’d cleared the dishes from dinner, after mom had said goodnight and left to read a few pages of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil before falling asleep, Kyle, I mean dad, wouldn’t even say anything as he poured two tumblers of whiskey and carried them out to the porch, and the two of us would sit in the darkness, listening to the cicadas buzzing in the trees. “I’m sorry,” he would say. Why are you sorry, I would ask, what do you have to be sorry for, dad? “I know that I play a great dad on TV, but at the end of the day, I’m just an actor. I feel like sometimes my career took me away from you and mom more than it should have, more than I should have let it. I just think I could have been a better father to you in a lot of ways. Don’t get me wrong, you turned out great. You grew up to into a real man and a good father yourself,” (I have kids of my own now), “and I would like to think that I had something to do with that, but I know you had to improvise a lot along the way. For that, I apologize.” Oh dad, I would say, you were a great dad. “I hope so, son” Kyle Chandler would say. We would both sip our whiskey in the night. Me and my dad, Kyle Chandler. (Photo via FuckYeahCoachTaylor.)