My father was the greatest human being this world has ever known, and responsible for every single one of my good literary habits, and an incredible sense of lack of respect for teachers who di not live up to our expectations. He was, without a doubt, the exact definition of the Magnanimous Man: constantly temperate, always sharing, and my father never once raised his voice to me... he simply got quieter, and that was always enough. It's hard to come home with a burning question on my mind, or a song that has been playing in my head all day, and not pick up the phone to call him. My father was loved by everyone, and despised by no one. He looked like Jerry Garcia, but was not a big fan of the Greatful Dead. And he always got more out of life than the average human being, and he never, as long as I knew him (not counting the time in the hospital when they had to shave his moustache)shaved his beard except for one line on either side of his face, and he never, ever, touched a vegetable other than the potato. And his sneezes were so loud they had syllables. And only he and his friend Richard have ever had the ability to make me laugh so hard my stomach hurt. sorry, got carried away.