Sir Dad, the Dragon Slayer

Department of Natural Resources: “Be on the lookout for the Tegu, a large, dragon-like lizard from South America that has been spotted in South Carolina. If you see this invasive species, do not approach! Contact DNR immediately!”

Me, as a Southern Baptist: “I wonder what it would taste like in a 9-inch casserole dish for Sunday’s dinner-on-the-grounds?”

Me, the avid outdoorsman: “Do I go after that sucker with heavy duty fishing tackle, or my trusty 12-gauge shotgun? And is there a limit?”

I do have some experience when it comes to dispatching dragons and other sorts of monsters. Being a father to young children, monsters are nothing new. The Monster Under the Bed, Things That Go Bump In The Night, and The Boogeyman in the closet – that’s just a typical Tuesday night bedtime battle for me.

But dragons? Well, that’s my specialty.

FLASHBACK:

Hunting Island Lighthouse Beach, Beaufort County, S.C., a decade ago. For two dollars, the brave and the foolish could climb the lighthouse, circle the observation tower and enjoy “a lofty view of the barrier island and surrounding seascape,” according to the State Park guide book.

Kid: “Daddy, can we climb it? Please?”

Lighthouse: (Soars 136 menacing feet off the ground.)

Me: “(Gulp)!”

Generally, I am afraid of only three things: angry wives, spiders (both real and imaginary) and heights - which might explain why my career as a fighter pilot never really got off the ground. Something weird happens to me when I get more than a few feet off the ground. My legs turn to Jello, my hands lock down in a death grip on anything nearby, and my head starts spinning.

I looked at the tourist’s guide in my shaking hands. Built circa 1889, this lighthouse is 131 years old. It’s so old that the state park only lets six people climb it at any given time. That can’t be safe.

“Please, Daddy?,” said the kid who watches too much TV. “It’s a magical tower, and there might be a dragon up there that has to be slayed, or maybe a Princess that needs rescuing! If you go first, I’ll go with you!”

“Visitors may find the lighthouse closed during inclement weather due to safety concerns,” the tour guide continued.

What safety concerns? I thought. Is it going to blow over?

Then I looked in my kid’s eyes. Pure hero worship. He just knew that Old Dad – no, Sir Dad, The Dragon Slayer – was going to mount those steps and dispatch all comers before rescuing the fair maiden.

Mount them, I did, with my young squire close at hand. All 167 steps, because I counted them. And we aren’t talking about solid steps, either - you could see through those rusty suckers all the way to the ground!

To say that I climbed that magical tower slowly would be an understatement. I was there so long they charged me double admission. Little old ladies from Jersey were passing me on the stairs with annoyed looks and lapping me on the way back down. Small children were asking if I needed assistance. I would have taken a prayer break, but it’s kind of tricky reaching hands for the heavens in prayer when your fingers are locked in a death grip on the guard rail.

Headlines of the ensuing tragedy flashed before my eyes: “Dad dies trying to show off for stupid kids” or “Man who should have known better dies in lighthouse collapse.”

I could not tell you much about the view from up there, because this conquering hero didn’t hang around long enough to sign any autographs. I kissed the sweet, salty earth when I returned to terra firma.

“Daddy wasn’t scared,” the over-imaginative kid informed his mom when we returned alive, the excitement radiating from his face like a beam from that very lighthouse long ago. “He climbed the castle, and he told that monster to watch his mouth, and then he kicked him in the butt!”

Did we just climb the same lighthouse, kid? Maybe it’s time to cut back on the candy and the cartoons.

*******

I was reminded of an important life lesson that day. Our young children don’t just look up to us when we climb lighthouses hundreds of feet in the air. They look up to us every day, in whatever we are doing, and more often than not they think that our actions are “cool” and “awesome,” and they want to be just like us when they grow up.

Conquering hero, are you using your powers for good? Are you setting good examples, and modeling positive behavior for the next generation?

Beware, all you masters of the castle and slayers of monsters. Beware, all you keepers of the night light and vanquishers of the boogeyman. Beware, all you teachers, role models and mentors. There really are dragons out there, and you really are someone’s hero.

Say, Mom, now that the dragon is gone, are you a Princess in need of a good rescuing?