Dan Hansen: Dad, we’re missing you – and wish we could give you a call

Sixteen years you’ve been gone. Hard to believe.

Your grandchildren are grown, going to college, settling into careers. One’s married; two are engaged. You have great-grandchildren.

Remember how you used to make a big show of wiping off my kisses? My grandson does the exact same thing. Rod’s youngest looks out the corner of his eyes with an almost-smile that makes me think of you. After Mom died, John’s oldest made us all cookbooks with her favorite recipes.

I left journalism. That must surprise you. People say reporters can’t do math, but we know when a paycheck won’t cover the bills.

A lot changes in 16 years.

The country was attacked after you died, and it rattled us. I stopped at a light on Trent on my way to work that morning, and the driver in the next lane was crying.

For a while, Americans pulled together. We were unified about going after the attackers. But before the job was done, we started another war on false pretenses, and the whole thing spun out of control.

Your military grandson came home whole; lots of others didn’t.

After that, it seemed like the hits just kept coming. A hurricane wiped out New Orleans, and an oil spill fouled the Gulf. The economy tanked, unlike anything since you were a kid. Lots of people lost homes, and no one was held accountable.

North Korea, school shootings, refugees – even Bill Cosby let us down.

I’m making it sound as though it’s all bad, which is far from true. You were always an optimist.

We explored Mars, and spotted seven planets that could conceivably have life. The drop-out rate, the murder rate, the teen pregnancy rate – they’re all down. Scientists who mapped the human genome say it will help them fight diseases. The remake of “True Grit” is better than the original.

You ready for the biggest change? Everyone carries a phone.

We carry them everywhere – at work, on vacation, behind the wheel, into theaters and into the bathroom. Like you carried a pocket knife, I carry a phone.

There are so many phones that Idaho is getting a second area code. There are so many phones that new phones make the front page of magazines that people read on their phones. There are so many phones that we’re getting rid of home phones – because who wants to share a phone?

Our phones are everything: clocks, cameras, flashlights, repair manuals, survival guides, credit cards, encyclopedias, photo albums, appointment calendars, calculators, entertainment centers. They can diagnose illnesses, locate old friends, play music, correct spelling, beat you at cribbage, or tell you how to fix a dishwasher.

Street maps have disappeared, but our phones won’t let us get lost. They tell us the exact time, even when we cross from Idaho into Montana, and back. They hold more music than a shelf of vinyl records (which are making a comeback, by the way).

Our phones give us more information than anyone has ever had. That might have drawn us closer together. Instead, it reinforces our individual biases by feeding us information that won’t challenge our beliefs.

Do flu shots cause autism? Are cops crooked? Was 9/11 a government plot? You decide first, and your phone will confirm your decision.

If you think that’s messed up, let me tell you about the last election.

Actually, Dad, let’s talk about the Zags.

Millwood writer Dan Hansen is a former Spokesman-Review reporter and editor. He still has a landline. He’s filling in for Doug Clark, who’s on vacation.