I have six good memories of my father. When I was four, we spent the winter in Florida, and my dad bought me an ice cream sandwich for the good behavior I displayed one morning while running errands with him.  There was the time, also in Florida, that he saved me from being stuck in an elevator by myself.   After a drinking binge with my friends, as a teenager, where a drunken fall caused me to chip my front tooth, my father, a dentist by profession, took me to his office that night and bonded up the chip, without once … Continue reading →