My family doesn't really follow the Hallmark holidays: Mother's Day, Father's Day, Grandparents's Day, Spayed and Neutered Pets Day, etc. We never put much importance into long-established days of celebration, much less "holidays" contrived for purposes both sacred and commercial. These days, my brothers and I call our folks on Mother's Day and Father's Day. But we don't send presents.

When I was a kid, my mom had us pick out a tie for my dad every year. He has a collection of some of the most hideous polyester ties you've ever seen. Bags and bags of the things. It is a singularly American collection--he oughta leave all the lot to the Smithsonian. When I ponder my contributions to that pile--which isn't often--I cringe. We didn't generally buy things for my mom, though one year, I bought some perfume for Mother's Day.

One minor problem: My mom is allergic to perfume.

But that spectacular debacle isn't why we don't hand out goodies on the prescribed days. And we skip presents for reasons other than our natural cheapskate natures. The whole idea of giving some cheap trinket (or even an expensive trinket) just doesn't make sense to us--a disdain for mindless consumerism passed on directly from our parents.

This year for Mother's Day, Max and I gave my wife Barbara a card that he'd drawn. That's it. No coupons to a day spa or whatever else it is you're supposed give on Mother's Day. I think she was a little cheesed (her family is a bit more demanding when it comes to these things), but both of us were too tired to worry about it for too long. A two-year-old will do that to you.

Leafing through the newspaper today, I noticed that we've suddenly entered the Father's Day buying season. The Best Buy circular's front page features a guy in some of the ugliest togs imaginable whacking a golf ball off the face of a big screen HDTV. JCPenney also featured golfing dads, and even Kmart showcased guys wearing clothes that would be acceptable only on a golf course (though they weren't actually holding clubs).

Sears was a bit more traditional, picturing dads wielding power tools. Still, it's weird to look at all this merchandising and realize that I don't fit any mass-produced ideal of a dad. I don't play golf, I don't drool over HDTVs (though I think they'd be cool if they weren't so freakin' big), I don't wear Dockers or Hawaiian shirts and I don't face withdrawal if I fail to crank up the ol' Skilsaw every couple of days. I don't even shave enough to go through a package of razors in a year.

In fact, no one is advertising my preferred Father's Day gift: a six-pack of good beer. Oh sure, there are plenty of ads for Bud and Miller and (God help us) all those tasteless (literally) low-carb brews, but no Father's Day push for Sierra Nevada or Rogue or any of the other "national micros." Actually, I'd take a single bottle of some obscure Belgian beer. I'm not terribly picky. Truth is, I won't be shooting up my house if I don't get beer for Father's Day. Like I said, I wasn't raised to care about these manufactured days of appreciation. I didn't send a card to the White House on President's Day or anything.

So I'm not a "regular" dad, the sorta guy that Gillette and Hitachi and Black and Decker and whoever love to target. I was trying to think about what sorts of things a stay-at-home dad might like, and I drew a blank-- though I can say that those cheesy basketball-game-on-a-block-of-wood "executive" gifts are right out. Just like stay-at-home moms, us dads in charge are a diverse lot. Some of us live in the 'burbs, some in the cities. Some are raving lunatic conservatives, some are raving lunatic liberals and even more prefer to avoid such silly labels altogether. The only thing we have in common is that we spend more time with our kids than our wives do. And, for the most part, I think we're all cool with that.

Is there a "regular" dad? Are there really all that many guys out there who would play 36 holes and then retire to the home theater for double feature of Porky's and True Lies every day if they could?

Nah. Some guys would only play 18, score a steak at Ruth's Chris and then head home for a night of ESPN. Or maybe skip the golf in favor of an afternoon at the firing range, a plate of shredded Szechwan tofu and a Michael Connolly novel. Or possibly a50-mile bike, a blackened grouper sandwich and a Tift Merritt show. Though I suppose you wouldn't be able to do that every day--though in my fantasy world I'd have enough money to retain a "personal singer," and Ms. Merritt would be near the top of my wish list.

In the real world, I think that most dads don't want to do the same thing every day, and that the best Father's Day gift just might be something completely unexpected. Since we've all got different sets of expectations, this precludes any suggestions on my part. I'm guessing most of you have enough creativity to come up with something on your own.

Even if it's something as simple as saying "I love you."

Jon Worley is still pushing for a six-pack, though he wouldn't turn up his nose at a bottle of bourbon or a nice pinot noir.