THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 19, 1995 TAG: 9511190148
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: ELIZABETH SIMPSON
LENGTH: Medium: 67 lines
The reasons movie stars quit TV series are legend by now.
Backstage romances gone sour. Creative differences that end in someone stomping off the set. Big-screen offers that lure celebrities away with million-dollar contracts.
But last week, when Emmy-award winner Mandy Patinkin departed ``Chicago Hope,'' it was for a reason that was different, and somehow refreshing: his family.
He wanted more time with his wife and kids.
Now some of you know I'm an ``ER'' fan myself, but Patinkin's exit on ``that other medical show'' caught my eye. You can hardly call it a trend, but this passing over fame and fortune to tuck kids in at night is certainly a fatherhood phenomenon worth noting.
Especially this year. Look at the big names in political and entertainment circles who have done the same:
Bill Galston, who realized a lifelong dream by becoming a domestic policy adviser to President Clinton, resigned this summer to spend more time with his 10-year-old son.
``You can replace me,'' he told the president. ``My son can't.''
Darryl Sutter, a winning coach with the National Hockey League's Chicago Blackhawks, resigned in June. Why? To spend more time with his three children, one of whom was born with Down syndrome. ``It's what's best for the family, and because of that, it's right,'' he said.
Somehow we expect these kinds of decisions from women, but not so much from men. Generations ago, fathers rarely sacrificed career for family. Or, if they did, they sure didn't talk it up. It was more likely to be viewed as failure than the Daddy track.
If ditching prestige for parenthood is not more common today - and I think it is - we're at least more aware of it. While most of us will never enjoy the glories of stardom, or the power of having the president's ear, we can relate to the heartache of a son or daughter missing Dad.
That's a language any rank-and-file parent can understand.
Galston recalls his son writing a letter that said, ``Baseball's not fun when there's no one to applaud you,'' followed by a description of the triple play and the final pop fly he caught without Galston cheering him on.
And Patinkin felt his celebrity turn to dust when his son asked whether Patinkin could get a job as the doorman of their New York City building so his son could see him more often.
I applaud these fathers for cashing in lifetime dreams in their struggle to balance work with home, fame with family.
But these headline makers are also lucky to be able to afford to make decisions like that. Patinkin can make a tidy living in New York. There is, after all, a national concert tour in the works and a movie in the wings. Galston must not do bad teaching at the University of Maryland, either.
But also worthy of note are the fathers - and mothers - who pass up promotions, who turn down business trips, who take more-flexible but lower-paying work schedules for the sake of family. And parents who, every day, balance money obligations against the hands-on nurturing their children need. Parents who commit themselves, in large ways and small, to sons and daughters and spouses.
They all can relate to Patinkin when he said: ``I don't think about this a lot. But my dad died when I was 18, and I always remembered that he talked about all the things he was going to do. . . . Then he died, and they never got done.'' by CNB