With his penchant for knitted sweater-vests and bespectacled countenance, it’s no surprise that — in addition to running a successful law firm — my dad recently became a part-time professor. In fact, it’s hard to imagine my dad as anything other than a sagacious academic mentor.
But one of the things I love most about my dad is that he wasn’t always a member of the intellectual elite. He grew up on an avocado farm, the son of an immigrant door-to-door vacuum salesman and a roadside vegetable peddler. He moved to Los Angeles to attend USC (after being rejected from UCLA, where he now teaches). In the ’70s, he had long hair, wore purple tie-dye jumpsuits and rolled with The Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo. From obsessively collecting records of long-dead Swedish tenors, to pulling the perfect espresso shot, to marrying my mom, he pursues his passions with unabashed fervor.
Adorable anecdote: last week, after reading my blog entry on Benjamin Franklin, my dad snapped this photo on his Blackberry and emailed it to me with the caption: “yo man benny.” Stop the presses. Alert the media. My dad is awesome.
My dad turns 60 this December, and I’ll turn 25 just a few days later. 35 years from now, when I’m on the cusp of my 6th decade, I hope I’m half as accomplished, intellectual and all-around decent as my dad.
(Photo via koncepts’ Zazzle store)
this makes me cry … few inaccuracies notwithstanding. My father never ran a roadside vegetable stand … that way my Mom, in Fallbrook. I wasn’t “rejected by UCLA,” actually I was accepted to both law schools but for reasons no longer apparent to me, choose to go to USC. I love you, dear girl, and only wish to be half as great as you make me out. xxoo Yo Dad
Yeah, I was trying to convey that your DAD was a vacuum salesman and your MOM was a roadside peddler. But perhaps my wording was vague.
And I thought you were rejected from UCLA! See, I learn new things every day … thanks to the magic of the internet.
I LOVE YOU!!!
so lovely