He would’ve turned 68 today. He co–founded a successful business in the sixties that is still thriving today. He grudgingly put on a shirt and tie everyday and worked long hours to ensure the success of the business and to make sure we were all able to live a comfortable life. He loved the work too, even though he really wanted to be out in his garage puttering with his hot rods. Fine tuning them, tending to every authentic detail.

He laughed a lot. He had a fantastic sense of humor. He would make up ridiculous songs out of the blue and walk around the house singing them at the top of his lungs. He would come into my room and pick up my acoustic guitar and sing a few bars of some country tune and tell me there was a country song for everything. He only knew a few bars of any song. At appropriate (and sometimes inappropriate) moments he would break out some hilarious Monty Python or Caddy Shack or Animal House quote. After visiting Australia, he would walk down the beach and pretend to be Australian when he encountered anybody. We would chuckle at people’s startled reaction when he said “G’day mate”.

He always understood me when no one else could. I could go to him with problems or questions about anything. He would always listen and try to offer world–wise advice. He had been there. I put pressure on myself to be “successful” to impress him. He just wanted me to be happy, whatever I was doing.

Because of him I love the smell of gasoline and garages. I am comforted by the low rumble of a souped up V8 and the quick blasts of sound from a drag strip. His history was full of hot rods, drag racing and wild stories. He never wanted to “grow up” and in his heart never did.

He wasn't perfect by any means - just great. I wish he could be here to see my daughter.

Happy Birthday Dad. No one misses you more than me.