he was putting together a clipper ship model
down in the basement on the workbench
after a dinner of pigs in a blanket or something else exotic
it had a brown hull and black trim around the top
three foot roughly from bow to stern
took him a long time to work on it I can vaguely recall
I don’t think he ever finished it
it was pretty detailed from what I can remember
I wasn’t interested in it
never put a model anything together
my mind was on baseball and other sports
girls and good times
didn’t have time for things like that
and I didn’t like the smell of old spice which that model ship reminded me of
ships did nothing for me
but one night recently I found myself thinking about that model
wondering whatever happened to it
my father is long gone now and it probably would up in the trash
scuttled as they say--decommissioned--maybe sold for scrap at a garage sale
all that nautical time and effort for naught
I was already living on my own thousands of miles away
our relationship never went down too many fathoms
I find myself wishing I had that boat or had gone to sea
too many hollywood movies I suppose seen by me
salt in the air, the cold spray dampening my face
have seen a lot of pictures on the net of those models
guess it was something for fathers to do to spend some quiet time after work
away from the wife, thoughts of work, away from raising indolent sons