I Remember Going On Carriage Rides With

It's Not What Your Parents Give You. It's What You Do With Your Own Stuff.

I'm Sure There Was Some Part Of His Soul Was Intrinsically Happy, But He Probably Had To Go Through Some Permutations To Really Get That To Blossom. I'm Sure Dad Had His Challenges, But I Think That Joy Was There From The Beginning And He Had To Find A Way To Make His Life Support That And Express That.

Simple. Pared Down. Timeless. The Ties Were Never Too Thick Or Too Thin; The Pants Were Never Too Flared Or Too Skinny. In My Life With Dad, He Wore Western Apparel Because We Went Riding - Jeans, Cowboy Boots, The Turquoise Belt Buckle. But It Was All Very Simple, And That Classic Look Is Very 'ralph Lauren.'

At Some Level It's Still Hard For Me To Admit That My Father Died. I Can Talk About It And Around It, But Those Two Words. 'he Died.' What Can That Possibly Mean? That I Won't Get To Hear His Voice Again?

Dad Somewhat Enjoyed Being Called Gay. He Said It Made Women Want To Prove The Assertion Wrong.