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Morning—Clay here.
At Campfire Gentleman, we talk a lot about showing up, being present with your family, living with purpose, and building a life that actually reflects your values.

But here’s something we don’t always say out loud:
Presence doesn’t have to be some perfectly planned moment.
Sometimes, it’s just tagging along.

This week, we’re talking about proximity, and how simply inviting your kids into your world might matter more than any activity you plan.

Let’s get into it. 🔥

That Time I Lost My Optimus Prime Head in a Rock Pile

Growing up, my dad tried about a million different things before landing on teaching in his 30s. At one point, he owned an insulation business. He wore full-body coveralls (is that redundant?) and crawled through sweltering Texas attics, spraying loose-fill insulation through a giant tube. It was every bit as miserable as it sounds. I wanted no part of it, but I did want to hang out with my dad.

So instead of “assisting” him in those attic infernos, I played outside. One day, I was in a rock pile—probably destined to become someone’s driveway—playing with my brand new Optimus Prime Transformer. It was the kind where the head popped off and transformed into a mini Optimus. It was the coolest freaking thing in the world.

Eventually, it was time to go… and I couldn’t find the head.

I scrambled, digging through gravel in a panic, but my dad finally said we had to leave. And that was it. Forty years later, I still know deep down that my Optimus Prime head is somewhere under a stranger’s driveway, missing his chance to battle the Decepticons.

No, I’m not over it!

➡️ But here’s the point:
If I wanted to hang out with my dad, I had to do what he was doing: insulating houses, feeding cattle, cleaning out the garage. He didn’t have a ton of free time. So if I wanted time with him, I had to tag along.

When my son was little, I had a different approach. I made it a point to do what he wanted to do. We built Legos, played video games, and constructed wooden train tracks. I didn’t want him to feel forced to follow me around doing boring adult stuff.

But something’s shifted.

Now that he’s older, he wants to tag along. He wants to go to the grocery store with me. To the gym. To Home Depot. He asks to ride along when I meet a client. He’s into Photoshop, guitar, and Avenged Sevenfold because I am.

And it’s given me a whole new perspective on those childhood days in rock piles in front of half-built houses. It makes me wonder:

Maybe I didn’t just tag along because I wanted to be near my dad…

Maybe I actually liked feeding cattle.

Or, more likely, maybe it didn’t matter what we were doing.

Maybe being near him, being invited into his world, was the point.

And now, watching my son follow me into mine, I finally get it.

Presence isn’t about the activity. It’s about the access. The invitation.

That rock pile was never just a pile of rocks. It was proximity. And to a kid, that’s everything.

…Even if it cost me the head of the legendary Autobot commander.

Worth it. (Barely….)

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New to Campfire Gentleman?
Glad you're here. If you just joined, here are a few recent posts you might’ve missed—practical reads to help you slow down, show up, and build a more meaningful life:

Rebuilding a Life Around Purpose: Chris Meston’s Story

Play the Deep Cuts

Five Things that Don’t Deserve Your Attention Right Now

Family: The Foundation of a Meaningful Life

Better Too Early Than Too Late

Until next time—
keep the fires burning.
– Clay

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