In the Name of my Fatherhowtobeadad
I know I’m writing on the heels of the memorialized grief of a nation but I have to tell you the story of my father who passed away seven years ago, at just this moment.
He would’ve been just 66 years-old today.
See, I’ve been growing my ugly hobo beard for a while now to honor him. He managed to detonate a Walt-Whitman-esque beardsplosion before he wasted away. It was spectacular. But now, I’m not sure if my face fuzz is memorializing him or scarring my son.
I’d like to think my musty hirsuteness smells like his did, though.
But rather than detail his fist fight with and defeat at the awful hands of cancer, I’d like to tell you a bit about how he lived, and then we can hug. Or maybe we can do something about the cancer, instead.
1946 – 2005
He was a radio disc-jockey and writer.
He once faked his own death, on-air, so he could be with me and my newborn brother.
He asked to be cremated but I have no idea where his ashes were scattered exactly.
I’m alternately angry and glad for that.
He was an apt teacher but an inept father.
He gave me a box filled to the brim with every rejection letter he had been sent.
He saw his Boston Red Sox win the World Series before he passed.
It’s a good thing too because it had only been 80+ years since their previous one at the time. He was a little excited about that.
He laid his soul bare, but retreated from criticism.
He never got to meet my son. But I feel like they know each other.
He took over the afternoon show on K-Rock in New York for Howard Stern, when Stern went to mornings.
If Stern mentions my mother again on air, I am not responsible for my actions.
I know there are thousands of charities all vying for your attention, but last week I was invited to attend the annual Stand Up to Cancer broadcast. Did you see it? It was only on every network and 22 cable channels. Whit Honea went with me, and after seeing the videos and performers, I probably should’ve titled this piece “Just a Couple of Guys Crying.”
Anyway, 100% of proceeds go the research and fight against cancer. With 1 in 2 men, as well as 1 in 3 women, we’re dealing with a silent genocide here, so let’s kick a modicum of ass. Sound like a plan?
Please visit them and lend your support to your family, me, yourself, and my late father. GO TO THEIR SITE & DONATE:
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