By+Joanna+Novak

對(duì)于有女兒的父親來(lái)說(shuō)，女兒永遠(yuǎn)是自己的掌上明珠，是自己終其一生拼盡全力都要守護(hù)的公主。有的父親對(duì)女兒極盡寵溺、呵護(hù)，真的將女兒當(dāng)作公主對(duì)待;但也有一些父親會(huì)用自己獨(dú)特的方式去教導(dǎo)女兒，向女兒傳授自己的生活智慧，將女兒培養(yǎng)成一個(gè)堅(jiān)強(qiáng)、獨(dú)立的人。

For the past few years， Ive had a tumultuous1） relationship with Facebook. A few days ago， I was reminded why.

I was at a campus fitness center， on a spinning bike， pedaling my way through a 45-minute routine. Despite the general flailing2） quality of my workout， I sweated， got breathless， and achieved a mental state of honed motivation. Maybe it was the inspirational poster taped to the otherwise-blank wall my bike faced： A mans long， brown forearm palms a ruddy basketball. Superimposed over the image are the words “Winners never quit and quitters never win.”

We have Vince Lombardi3） to thank for this kick-in-the-pants4） of a sentence—and as I slowed my pedaling， I felt like Id already won. So it wasnt QUITTING when I looked at my phone and checked Facebook—thats what I told myself. What was quitting was me abandoning the bike as I started to read the post of an acquaintance， a woman who had that day lost her dad.

“I didnt expect to have such a short time with him，” the woman admitted. News like this always wrecks me， but this womans loss hit me more personally： Her father and mine share the same first name. Id rather not mention that name. After all， one of the reasons Ive long been freaked out about Facebook is because I was raised—by my parents， but especially by my dad—to be a private person.

How does THAT work for a writer？ Not super well. And yet， surely Vince Lombardi has applicable wisdom： “The measure of who we are is what we do with what we have.” Ive been fortunate enough to develop the confidence to believe that what I have is my mind and my voice， and for that I need to thank my dad.

Hes alive and well， I should add， but hey—theres a fair chance he might not read this. Im pretty sure a part of him still wishes Id done something involving math. I have a solid suspicion that he only finds my writing when my mom shows it to him—and thats okay.

When I was a kid， I saw other dads. They were everywhere， wearing Hawaiian shirts and mustaches， carrying wallets and drinking beers. On television， they gave stumbling advice or flaunted5） their comic ineptitude at the flames of the charcoal grill. Sitcom dads got teased by wives and taunted6） by children until the moment of crisis， and fatherly advice was proffered like Bactine7） for a skinned knee. It hurts but its good.

The dads I met in real life wore shirts and mustaches， too， but they also wore red vests and headdresses8）. My dad was one of them. For ten years， he and I participated in a program called Indian Princesses. We went on campouts where we practiced archery， paddled aluminum canoes， and climbed rock towers with names like Mount Wood. We had nicknames， too， like “Singing Bird” and “Screaming Eagle.” That was me and my dad， the quietest members of the “Arapaho9） tribe.”

To tell you the truth， I envied the other girls with their jouncy10） dads. The other Arapaho dads were outgoing and funny. I envied girls with braggy dads who boasted of their daughters accuracy at the rifle range; girls with lenient11） dads， who let their daughters fork tunnels through mess hall mashed potatoes.

Im not sure when the envying wore off， but one year it did， like a puddle12） on hot asphalt13）， gone in an instant. Instead of wanting a dad who treated me like a princess， I became grateful for the way my father held me to a higher standard.

Thats what it felt like， anyhow， when it was just the two of us in a canoe， paddling down the Rock River. Rowing is hard， and its especially hard when youre a twelve-year-old girl who cant even do a push-up. Other canoes ferried groups of four： Two dads and two daughters so the Princesses wouldnt have to do the grunt work. In our vessel， it was just Screaming Eagle and me.

My friends waved as they passed us by. I could hear them singing. My hands were already blistering14）; they smarted15） when I repositioned them on the oars. But even though we were perpetually getting lodged16） in rocks， the prow17） of our canoe smacking18） into sand and silt19）， even though our journey down the river took twice the time of the other Arapahos and sometimes we heard nothing but the sound of our paddles slapping the water， an invisible fish leaping， my dad and I were steering that boat together， fueled by the cans of Diet Soda hed stashed20） in the pockets of his windbreaker.

Winners never quit and quitters never win： My dad taught me there are so many ways to win every day. Winning is a personal matrix， the little choices that add up to character. Of course winning is reaching the top of Mount Wood before anyone else， but winning is also dealing with wet dock shoes when your daughter cant get the hang of21） placing just the blade—and not the oars shaft—in the water. Winning is being together in the canoe.

Winning， my father taught me， is using one plate instead of two， is drinking the mornings cold coffee instead of buying a Starbucks in the middle of the afternoon. Winning isnt not procrastinating22）—winning is staying up all night when you have a project or a report due the next day， when you have a deadline， when you have the stamina23） to think a little harder. Winning， my dad taught me， is thinking， thinking not only in an intellectual context， but thinking about the person you want to be in this world.

There are all kinds of facts I could tell you about my father， but none of those would begin to explain why I feel closest to him in my family. He may know the least about me： I would be ashamed， for instance， if he knew how much money Id spent on clothes， purses， even books—after all， I learned as a teenager， CDs were a waste. “What are you going to do with those？” my dad would ask me when I filled an under-the-bed plastic storage container with music. I was incredulous then—and incredulous again， last year， when I returned to my parents house and dumped all those CDs at Goodwill24）.

He doesnt know my darkest secrets and， on the surface， we have so little in common. He likes ribs; I like tuna tartare. He likes “cocoa mocho frappuccinos”; I like espresso and water. He likes his half-acre of lawn; I like city blocks. And yet when we talk on the phone， we can spend an hour comparing our dogs， our weather， and our jobs， and I marvel that two people can feel so close.

What， then， is that space between the rivers bottom and the froth the canoe leaves in its wake on the surface？ If neither our secrets nor our affinities bind me and my father， what does？ Somehow， that mysterious something seems bigger， and though Im not a math person like my dad， Im certain the middle darkness of a river encompasses its greatest area.

Fathers Day is coming and I cant not think about how lucky I am to have the Dad I do. I want to honor our relationship—as quiet and indefinable as it might be—while hes around to hear it. Yes， Im thankful for his wisdom and quirks， grateful for everything hes taught me about the world. But Im also glad for everything he hasnt taught me. He hasnt taught me to be dependent on men; he hasnt taught me to see myself as an enemy or a princess—in fact， by seeing me as a person with a mind and a heart rather than as a woman， hes taught me to look past some of the most biological parts of myself.

Hes the sort of understated person who cant be summed up in a Lombardi-ism. Hes not a coach or a champ， a jock25） or geek. Hes the quiet， goofy， introspective， dog-loving man who taught me to guard myself and my privacy， to honor my thoughts—and the man who grants me the courage to give all that away.

過(guò)去幾年中，我和臉書(shū)的關(guān)系時(shí)好時(shí)壞。幾天前，我意識(shí)到了其中的原因。

我當(dāng)時(shí)在一個(gè)校園健身中心里，騎在一輛動(dòng)感單車(chē)上，正在進(jìn)行一項(xiàng)時(shí)長(zhǎng)45分鐘的例行訓(xùn)練。雖然我騎車(chē)騎得手忙腳亂，卻還是滿(mǎn)身大汗，氣喘吁吁，達(dá)到了一種斗志勃發(fā)的精神狀態(tài)?；蛟S這要多謝我對(duì)面的墻上不是空白一片，而是貼了張勵(lì)志海報(bào)：一位男性用長(zhǎng)長(zhǎng)的棕色小臂攬著一只紅棕色的籃球。圖上寫(xiě)著“成功者從不半途而廢，半途而廢的人永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)成功”。

這種當(dāng)頭棒喝型的警句要?dú)w功于文斯·隆巴迪。而當(dāng)我逐漸放慢蹬車(chē)速度，我感覺(jué)自己已經(jīng)算是成功了。所以當(dāng)我掏出手機(jī)看臉書(shū)時(shí)，并不算是半途而廢——我這么安慰自己。真正的半途而廢要從我停下單車(chē)訓(xùn)練，開(kāi)始閱讀一位女性朋友的帖子開(kāi)始。發(fā)帖那天，她的父親離世了。

“沒(méi)想到我和他共處的時(shí)間會(huì)這么短?！彼姓J(rèn)道。這種事情總是讓我覺(jué)得很難過(guò)，但是這位女性朋友痛失親人的經(jīng)歷尤其讓我感同身受：她的父親和我的父親同名。我在此就不提這個(gè)名字了。畢竟，長(zhǎng)久以來(lái)，臉書(shū)讓我覺(jué)得不安的原因之一就是，我從小就被教育——被我的父母，尤其是我的父親教育——要成為一個(gè)珍視隱私的人。

一個(gè)作家能夠做到這一點(diǎn)嗎？沒(méi)辦法做得特別好。但是，文斯·隆巴迪自然也有應(yīng)景的名言：“衡量我們是什么樣的人，要看我們利用自己所擁有的東西都做了什么。”我很幸運(yùn)地建立起自信心，自認(rèn)我所擁有的是我的頭腦和我的聲音，而這份自信的獲得要?dú)w功于我的父親。

必須要加一句，我的父親尚在人世，身體安康，但是，很有可能，他不會(huì)讀到本篇文章。我很確信他還是有些希望我能在數(shù)學(xué)方面有所作為。我強(qiáng)烈懷疑只有當(dāng)我母親把我的文章拿給他看時(shí)，他才會(huì)發(fā)現(xiàn)我寫(xiě)的文章——但我并不介意。

在我小時(shí)候，我觀察過(guò)別人的父親。他們隨處可見(jiàn)，身著夏威夷花襯衫，留著八字胡，帶著皮夾，喝著啤酒。在電視上，他們拙嘴笨舌地提出建議，或者在碳烤架的火焰旁洋洋得意地展示他們令人忍俊不禁的笨拙姿態(tài)。情景喜劇里的爸爸們平日里被妻子揶揄，被子女嘲笑，但一到危機(jī)時(shí)刻，卻總能提出慈父的建議，就像為擦破皮的膝蓋噴急救噴霧一樣。疼是疼，但效果立竿見(jiàn)影。

我在真實(shí)生活中遇見(jiàn)的父親們也有穿襯衫、留八字胡的時(shí)候，但是他們也有穿紅色馬甲、戴印第安頭飾的時(shí)候。我父親就是其中一員。在長(zhǎng)達(dá)十年的時(shí)間里，他和我參加了一個(gè)叫“印第安公主”的項(xiàng)目。我們外出露營(yíng)，在那里練習(xí)射箭，劃鋁制獨(dú)木舟，爬名為“木頭峰”的巖石山。我們還有外號(hào)呢，比如“鳴鳥(niǎo)”和“嘯鷹”，分別指我和我父親——整個(gè)“阿拉帕霍部落”里最安靜的兩個(gè)成員。

說(shuō)實(shí)話(huà)，我羨慕過(guò)其他的女孩子，因?yàn)樗齻兊母赣H更活躍?！鞍⒗粱舨柯洹崩锲渌母赣H外向又有趣。我羨慕那些有個(gè)會(huì)夸夸其談的父親的女孩，她們的父親會(huì)在射擊場(chǎng)炫耀自己的女兒射得有多準(zhǔn);我羨慕那些有個(gè)更寬容的父親的女孩，她們的父親會(huì)允許自己的女兒用叉子在食堂供應(yīng)的土豆泥里劃來(lái)劃去。

我不確定這種羨慕是何時(shí)消失的，但是有一年，它不見(jiàn)了，像是炙熱柏油路上的一汪水一樣，突然就消失了。我不再想要一個(gè)把我當(dāng)公主對(duì)待的父親，而是開(kāi)始感激我的父親以更高的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)要求我。

至少，在我們要?jiǎng)潣芈蹇撕悠鞫拢?dú)木舟上就只有我們兩人時(shí)，我是這么感覺(jué)的。劃船很難，對(duì)于一個(gè)連俯臥撐都做不起來(lái)的12歲小女孩而言尤為如此。其他的獨(dú)木舟上有四個(gè)人：兩個(gè)爸爸和兩個(gè)女兒，這樣一來(lái)，小公主們就不用干這枯燥無(wú)味的苦活兒了。而在我們船上，就只有“嘯鷹”和我。

我的朋友們?cè)谛薪?jīng)我們身邊時(shí)會(huì)沖我揮手。我能聽(tīng)見(jiàn)他們?cè)诔?。我的手上已?jīng)起了水泡;當(dāng)我換個(gè)姿勢(shì)握槳時(shí)，就覺(jué)得水泡生疼。雖然我們不斷地被卡在巖石間，雖然我們獨(dú)木舟的船頭會(huì)陷進(jìn)沙子和淤泥里，雖然比起其他“阿拉帕霍部落”的成員，我們要花兩倍的時(shí)間才能完成順流而下的行程，而且有時(shí)候我們周?chē)o得只能聽(tīng)見(jiàn)自己的劃槳聲，還有魚(yú)兒在我們看不見(jiàn)的地方躍出水面的聲音，但是，父親和我還是齊心協(xié)力地駕船前行，喝著他塞在防風(fēng)夾克口袋里的罐裝無(wú)糖蘇打汽水來(lái)補(bǔ)充能量。

成功者從不半途而廢，半途而廢的人永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)成功：我的父親教導(dǎo)我，有很多種方法可以讓我在每一天都獲得成功。成功是一個(gè)因人而異的矩陣，每一個(gè)小小的選擇會(huì)積累成一個(gè)人的品性。在所有人之前抵達(dá)木頭峰的峰頂當(dāng)然算是成功，不過(guò)就算你的女兒完全搞不懂是要把槳葉而非槳柄放進(jìn)水里，能穿著打濕的船鞋堅(jiān)持下來(lái)也是成功。成功就是一起在獨(dú)木舟里劃完整個(gè)旅程。

我的父親教導(dǎo)我，所謂成功，就是能用一個(gè)盤(pán)子的時(shí)候不要浪費(fèi)用兩個(gè);是要把早上剩的冷咖啡喝掉，而不要在下午三四點(diǎn)時(shí)去星巴克再買(mǎi)咖啡。成功不是戰(zhàn)勝拖延癥——成功是當(dāng)你第二天有一個(gè)項(xiàng)目或一篇報(bào)告要完成時(shí)，當(dāng)你有一個(gè)截止日期要趕時(shí)，當(dāng)你有耐力再仔細(xì)想想時(shí)，就去熬個(gè)通宵。我的父親教導(dǎo)我，所謂成功，就是去思考，不僅是智力層面的思考，還要想想看你想要在這個(gè)世界上成為怎樣的人。

關(guān)于我的父親，我有各種各樣的事情可以講，但這些事情都解釋不了為什么在整個(gè)家庭中我與他最親近。他可能對(duì)我的事知道得最少：如果他知道我在衣服、錢(qián)包甚至?xí)匣硕嗌馘X(qián)的話(huà)，我可能會(huì)羞愧難當(dāng)——畢竟，當(dāng)我還是個(gè)青少年時(shí)，我從他那了解到，買(mǎi)CD是一種浪費(fèi)。“你買(mǎi)這些打算怎么處理呢？”當(dāng)我在床底下的塑料收納盒里裝滿(mǎn)了音樂(lè)光碟，我父親這樣問(wèn)道。我當(dāng)時(shí)覺(jué)得他問(wèn)了一個(gè)荒唐的問(wèn)題——直到去年我回到爸媽家，把所有的CD都送去舊貨商店，才發(fā)覺(jué)是自己做了荒唐的事。

父親對(duì)我最深處的秘密一無(wú)所知，而且在表面上看來(lái)，我們的相同點(diǎn)少之又少。他喜歡肋排，而我喜歡鮪魚(yú)塔塔。他喜歡可可摩卡法布奇諾，而我喜歡蒸餾咖啡和水。他喜歡他的那半畝草坪，而我喜歡城市街區(qū)。但是，當(dāng)我們?cè)陔娫?huà)里聊天的時(shí)候，我們卻可以花一個(gè)小時(shí)比較各自的狗、各自的天氣和各自的工作，我驚嘆于兩個(gè)人可以感覺(jué)如此親近。

那么，在河流底部和河面上獨(dú)木舟劃過(guò)留下的泡沫之間，到底有著什么？如果我和父親之間既不靠秘密，也不靠喜好聯(lián)系在一起，那靠的是什么呢？不知為何，這種神秘的東西似乎變大了，雖然我不像父親那樣精通數(shù)學(xué)，但我確定河底與河面之間的混沌區(qū)域包含河流最大的那部分。

父親節(jié)就要到了，我為有這樣的父親而倍感幸運(yùn)。我想要趁著父親還能聽(tīng)到，贊揚(yáng)一下我們之間的關(guān)系——雖然我們的關(guān)系可能靜默無(wú)言，又難以言表。是的，我感謝他的智慧和古怪，感激他教會(huì)我有關(guān)這個(gè)世界的一切。但是我也感激他沒(méi)有教給我的事情。他沒(méi)有教我要依靠男人;他沒(méi)有教我把自己看成自己的敵人或是一位公主。事實(shí)上，他把我看作一個(gè)有頭腦也有心靈的人，而不僅僅是一個(gè)女人，這讓我學(xué)會(huì)不受大部分生理特性的限制。

他是那種低調(diào)的人，沒(méi)辦法用隆巴迪式的格言所概括。他不是教練，也不是冠軍，不是壯漢，也不是呆子。他是個(gè)話(huà)不多、傻里傻氣、內(nèi)向又愛(ài)狗的男人，他教會(huì)我要保護(hù)我自己和我的隱私，要尊重自己的想法——是他給了我勇氣，去把這些想法都表達(dá)出來(lái)。

1. tumultuous [tju??m?lt???s] adj. 動(dòng)亂的，

雜亂的

2. flail [fle?l] vi. （四肢）有力地?fù)]動(dòng)

3. Vince Lombardi：文斯·隆巴迪（1913～1970），美國(guó)最成功、最受尊敬的橄欖球教練之一

4. kick-in-the-pants：（出乎意料的）責(zé)備，口頭指責(zé)批評(píng)（旨在使他人有所醒悟，改進(jìn)言行）

5. flaunt [fl??nt] vt. 炫耀，夸耀

6. taunt [t??nt] vt. 嘲笑

7. Bactine：拜爾公司出產(chǎn)的傷口急救噴霧劑

8. 此處指參加“印第安公主”項(xiàng)目時(shí)所穿的美式印第安馬甲和所佩戴的印第安頭飾。

9. Arapaho：阿拉帕霍人，北美印第安人的一族

10. jouncy [?d?a?nsi] adj. 搖晃的

11. lenient [?li?ni?nt] adj. 溫和的，寬容的

12. puddle [?p?d（?）l] n. （路面的）水坑;洼

13. asphalt [??sf?lt] n. 瀝青;柏油

14. blister [?bl?st?（r）] vi. 起水泡

15. smart [smɑ?（r）t] vi. （身體某部位或傷口）劇痛;刺痛

16. lodge [l?d?] vt. 卡住

17. prow [pra?] n. 船頭

18. smack [sm?k] vi. 正好撞上

19. silt [s?lt] n. 淤泥，泥沙

20. stash [st??] vt. 存放，儲(chǔ)藏

21. get the hang of：熟悉……的門(mén)道

22. procrastinate [pr???kr?st?ne?t] vi. 耽擱;拖延

23. stamina [?st?m?n?] n. 毅力;持久力

24. Goodwill：美國(guó)的舊貨商店

25. jock [d??k] n. （某項(xiàng)運(yùn)動(dòng)的）狂熱愛(ài)好青年