"Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip
That started from this tropic port
Aboard this tiny ship.
The mate was a mighty sailing man,
The skipper brave and sure.
Five passengers set sail that day
For a three hour tour, a three hour tour.
The weather started getting rough,
The tiny ship was tossed,
If not for the courage of the fearless crew
The minnow would be lost, the minnow would be lost.
The ship set ground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle
The Skipper too,
The millionaire and his wife,
The movie star
The professor and Mary Ann,
Here on Gilligan's Isle."
--Gilligan's Island Theme Song, 1964
In the spirit of Dior and cruise ship vacation time, I sported a boat-inspired Spring look, easy and comfortable. My thrifted black-banded fedora, thrifted feather earrings, H&M leather bracelets, Forever21 coral tank and white hoodie, my Dereon high-waisted jeans, and my white wedges came together with a leopard-print belt for an unconventional vacay look. You don't have to go to extreme measures with loud, touristy pieces like "aloha print shirts," (which, by the way, makes Hawaii natives gag), to look as if you're about to go sailing in style--the key to this Spring trend is to cuff your jeans, add some loose ends, and dive in with a pop of color, in which case I chose another Spring trend to try: coral/orange. Finally, top off the look with a fun hat--fedora, sunhat, boat hat--you name it.
The look put a little, jolly tune in my head. The upbeat rhythm snuck up on me, and, finally, the words came to mind. I remembered the days I watched "Gilligan's Island" in my living room with my dad; we plopped on the couch together with a fat bowl of butter-dripping popcorn and Tamoe brand mochi crunch between us. We knew all the words to the theme song and, eventually, all the lines to every episode. I was my father's Gilligan--the clumsy, trouble-making, good-hearted character of the family. Everything foolhardy Gilligan would do, so would I.
We laughed together and sang together, my father and I.
I need to laugh with him more. I need to sing with him more. We need to reminisce about our Gilligan days--about the days when he would wake me up every morning before school at 5am, when he would pour my favorite cereal for me without needing to ask which I wanted, when he bench-pressed me (when either he was strong enough or when I was small enough, which ever went first, though I'm apposed to admitting the latter is true), when he picked out the red Dino shape from the Flintstones Vitamins bottle for a stubborn girl, when he brought home orange chicken from our hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, when he brought the entire 6th grade class free McDonald's hamburgers and fries from work, when he would collect the Happy Meal toys for me, including all 101 of the 101 Dalmations and every single Beanie Baby--and when I was Daddy's Little Girl.
I'm still Daddy's Little Girl. And I need to let him know that. I may have outgrown my Osh Kosh B'Gosh overalls and the millions of marble rubber bands he used to put in my hair to hold it all together (because he couldn't braid or style it in any way), but I will never outgrow my dad's embrace, laugh, or love. Together, we had our own little Isle, separate from the world.
"Any man can be a father. It takes someone special to be a dad."