My father is a nerd. Not just in the sense that he’s intelligent. He is, of course. He is a determined man who knew from an early age what he was going to be, and spent his first $1000 on a computer. It is not overstating the facts to say that he’s one of the best at what he does. But it’s not just his intelligence that makes my father an epic geek father.
For most of my life, my father sacrificed so that we would not do without. He is an incredibly gifted programmer who would undoubtedly be annoyed by me simplifying his title down so much (Enterprise architect being a far geekier and more professionally impressive I’m sure, but a strange title without context). Because of his job, we have spent most of my teenage years and subsequent adulthood apart, with him usually only being in the same state on weekends or between assignments. I’m sure he feels that he has missed out on most of my life, and there are not words to correctly express the sacrifice that he has made, or my appreciation for that sacrifice.
I have been told numerous times how similar we are, usually only when referring to a shared condescending stare we have towards what we deem illogical questions, and an intense and compulsive need to be honest to the point of brutal bluntness. He may feel like he wasn’t around, but that’s not the case. He’s very much a part of my life and the nerdy woman I am today.
My family believes in education, and it was my father who painfully pulled through every line of my college entrance essays. He is why I read everything aloud and firmly avoid the word “things” if I can help it. Both of my parents are where I get my geek-cred. Being smart in my household was “cool” and we were well immersed in geek culture from an early age. I had a computer in my room before most of my peers, and when Star Trek TNG came out on DVD, watching the series front to back was a family affair. The only time I remember staying up late was to beat just one more Gauntlet Legends level. My father would play Starcraft, and I would watch, fascinated by the breath of the Zerg hives.
It is his sacrifice that makes him an epic geek father, and while he might not be the flashiest nerd dad, the kind that would dress up and takes his daughter to a convention, he is the kind of dad that would give his daughter grief for a month over not taking him to see Lando Calrissian (“He flew the Millennium Falcon!“). He is my favorite geek dad. Captain America cuff links and all.
