I answered the phone at my desk.
“Hello?”
“This is the last time I’m going to read this to you.” I immediately recognized my father’s voice, who offered no salutation.
“I had to read this to you over and over and over again,” he continued. “’I will not eat it in a box, I will not eat it with a fox. I will not eat green eggs and ham. I will not eat it, Sam I Am.’”
“Oka-a-y,” I responded, somewhat hesitantly, wondering where this was going. I glanced around the busy law office, processing this surreal moment of having my father read a childhood book to me.
“Dr. Seuss recently died,” he said, “and I’m reading a column in today’s San Francisco Chronicle paying tribute to him. I was thinking about how many times I had to read his books to you over and over again. So, I’m just letting you know, that this is the last time I’m reading this to you.”
Laughing, I thought, “That’s my dad.” Read More…

That I couldn’t get away with much, because she had already done it.


Each parking space had its own speaker which hung on a pole and was attached with a cable. The speaker would hang over the partially opened car window. Sometimes, the speakers actually worked. When they didn’t, we’d have to drive forward or backward to another parking spot. It got to the point where my dad would just have my brothers get out of the car to run from speaker to speaker finding one that worked, so he wouldn’t have to continually move the car. In the winter, because of the required partially opened window, we would freeze.
Gene Autry only kissed his horse. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers danced their way to romance. Bogie showed Ingrid Bergman how much he loved her by sending her away.