Family Week: Men's Hour Lads and Dads Special

Men's Hour returns today with a special hour-long show to coincide with 5 live's Family Week.



We're investigating men's relationships with their fathers. How has your dad shaped you as a person? Do you feel that you strive to win his approval? How often - if ever - do you tell your dad you love him? Or are you like me, and you'd rather bang your most sensitive parts with a hammer than be sensitive in the vicinity of your dad?



Personally, I've never quite understood the rules of father/son relationships. For a start, there's phone etiquette. If I call my parents and my dad answers, there's some idle chit-chat about work or the weather. We then both sort of mumble something about speaking to mum and off he goes and fetches her.

Don't get me wrong. I'm close to my Dad, but discussing anything deep just seems a bit, well, awkward. It's like trying to explain the birds and the bees to an actual bird or a real bee; neither party really understands what the other one is talking about and it all seems a bit unnecessary.

It's unnecessary because we don't have to say it. That's the thing with men. We know how we feel about each other, but saying it out loud feels wrong, and anyway, your mates would make fun of you. We feel the right things for each other but admitting it simply doesn't seem like the manly thing to do.

As far as most men are concerned, getting all touchy and feely is for girls, up there with going shopping together, being able to talk to each other in public toilets, or sobbing into a tissue while watching the Pride of Britain Awards.

Dad and I recently went out together. Not shopping. Let me be clear about that. No, we thought it would be an interesting experiment for each of us to introduce the other to something from our respective worlds.

Thus it was that Dad took me to William Morris' house in Bexleyheath, to hear an informative talk from a knowledgable guide about the pre-Raphaelite artist, writer and designer's life and work, with each room's architectural and social significance explained in great detail.

And then, in the evening, I took my Dad to see Motorhead.

We sat watching from about halfway back, in the middle of a group of fistwaving, smelly Motorhead fans who appeared to be made of hair and leather. My dad was conspicuous amongst them, not least because he'd bought himself some bright orange industrial earplugs which he only took out when Lemmy and co sat on stools for an acoustic number. He nodded along to it and then, when the flying V guitars came returned, in went the earplugs.

It was a great day and I think we both felt that we'd bonded. Although that also may have been because we had beer.

Since the Morris vs. Motorhead day I've had a baby daughter, and my dad dotes on her. In fact, in a strange sort of way, I now feel closer to him through her. I can see him watching over her, as he did with me and my sisters.

He took me to work with him once (he was a builder before he retired) and there I was, a 12 year old child sitting in a cold builder's hut early in the morning with my dad and his men, watching him visibly wince every time they swore.

Afterwards, on the way home he said, "About the swearing. Don't tell your Mum." I wish I could have said, "Don't worry dad. 25 years from now I'll be working in radio, not a million miles away from James Naughtie."

Jon Holmes is the producer of Men's Hour. The Lads and Dads Special is on at 9.30pm tonight.