Your old man had it right. He drove a woodgrain estate to work and a 911 for coffee on the weekends. He wore crewnecks and tight jeans. He lifted weights & jogged. He ate steak and eggs for breakfast and read road and track & Newsday. He listened to Casiopea, George Benson and Earl Klugh on tape and practiced guitar on Friday nights. He went fishing in the summer and brought your mother flowers every week. He wore Sambas and looked a bit like Frank Zane when he sucked it in at the beach. He watched boxing, motor racing and hockey cos all other sports were shite. He put you on his shoulders at Watkins Glen and let you have two ice creams cos it was hot that day. Deep down he knew Senna took too many chances but he loved him anyway. He drank canned beer and only smoked a cigarette or two when he was really on one. He did hard things routinely. Coffee black, ribeye rare.