The Father's Day Cook-Out

When my Dad was still with us, we used to gather at his house every Father's Day for a family cook out. As I would pull up in the driveway, I would see my father beginning to methodically place the burgers and hot dogs onto the backyard grill. Sometimes, I think he purposely waited until he saw my car to do this because, like clockwork, he was at this same stage of  the "cooking" process every time I arrived for a cookout. He would greet me in his southern drawl by saying, "Hey Ken, how ya doin'? You wanna finish cooking these? I'm gonna go in the house and check on Linda." (Linda is my mother)

My Dad was a very frugal man. He could squeeze a quarter tight enough to make George Washington cry. As I tended to the meat on the grill, my Dad would eventually come back outside and tell me about the great deal that he got on the burgers and hot dogs. Sometimes, to back up his claims, he would head back into the house and return with a receipt. He would point out the regular price and then emphasize the discount that he got with the aid of his trusty coupons.

My Dad wasn't one to waste time or money with traditional ground beef either. He would always opt for the more economical, pre-made boxed burgers. In his later years, "Bubba Burgers" became his go-to brand. He would bring out a half-frozen box of these thing to me as I re-positioned the first run of meat on the grill. I would tell him that we already had plenty of food. But he always wanted to grill more just in case anyone wanted a second helping. 

Every now and then, my Dad would splurge and buy Nathan's all-beef hot dogs. This was a big deal for the family because we knew the mental struggle that he must have went thorough spending an extra buck on that pack of hot dogs. Listening to him talk up the "filet mignon of hot dogs" was priceless.

Sometimes, Dad would throw me a curve ball and bring out a tray of chicken. Now, I don't mind grilling burgers, hot dogs or even steak. But chicken has always been my weak spot. I almost always overcook it. In the end, it usually has the texture of chicken jerky (is that such a thing?). Anyway, Dad knew my about my grilling Archilles heel. So, he would point out that chicken thighs were easier to grill because they were "juicier". Of course, I knew the real reason that he opted for the the thighs was because they were considerably cheaper than the more coveted chicken breasts.

When the grilling was finished, I would pile everything onto a plate and head into the kitchen. There, I would find a table full of salads, cakes and a variety of other food sufficient enough to give the entire neighborhood a "second helping". We would all prepare our plates and find a place to sit in the cramped house. Usually with the Orioles playing on the TV in the background, we would talk about the current events of the world. My Dad would act as the moderator, walking around asking things like, "You alright? You need anything? How about some ice cream? I got a good deal on Edy's Mint Chocolate Chip. It was buy one get one free and plus I had a coupon. Anyway, there's about 10 gallons of it in the freezer. Go get ya some."

We would wind the day down, enjoying each others' company. As we prepared to leave, Dad would do his best to send everyone home with a large plate of leftover burgers, potato salad, etc. As we said our goodbyes, Dad would eventual catch us and thank us for coming. It was a special moment then but looking back on it now makes it even more cherished.

We all thought these gatherings with Dad would last forever. But like most good things, they eventually come to an end. Unfortunately, I'll never get to cook another Bubba Burger for my father. But I will always remember the joy and good times that I had with him in his back yard on Father's Day.

kw