Father's Day

It's not easy for someone who has worked in the world of comedy to unironically type the words "My father first took me to Yankee Stadium when I was eight" - unless he's Billy Crystal - never mind that it's true. Or that he coached and then sat through innumerable basketball games of mine, never mind that my skill set in that area did not bode great things. Or that he took a bunch of my friends and me to a concert at the Fillmore East, never mind that he had to endure the sight of Keith Emerson (later of Emerson, Lake and Palmer) stabbing an organ with a knife in mid-performance. That particular misadventure didn't stop him from taking us to see the Rolling Stones at Madison Square Garden the following year. And it's not as if he liked the music.

Although my father was a busy guy, working hard to support his family at a job where he was responsible for the livelihoods of many others, he always was deeply involved in my brother's and my lives. Along with how to throw a ball, he taught us how to be in the world.

The word role model gets thrown around a lot these days. Athletes are supposed to fulfill that role, or religious leaders, or, god forbid, movie stars. The man whose primary role model is his father, and who can still say that in middle age, is lucky for a lot of reasons. Perhaps the most important one is it makes him realize what he has the chance to mean to his own kids.