If you have a father — or father figure! — memory to share, let's get so emotional together.
I'll start. My dad did the best he could with the tools he had. He wasn't raised in a particularly loving, stable, or non-abusive home, and the shit lessons he learned from my grandparents definitely carried forward into my formative years. However, something changed when my dad turned 60 and took up racquetball. Finally having a constructive outlet for his competitiveness, he channeled a lot of his less attractive qualities into the game he learned to love. At home, he chilled out and became kind-of a totally different person. He readily acknowledges this and proudly wears a t-shirt I bought him that says "I'm a much better grandfather than I was a father" — well, it says something like that, but in some "witty" way that t-shirts sold only at novelty stores on beach boardwalks can achieve. Anyway, I guess that's less of a story than it is a Retrospective on Laura's Dad, but it's what I have to share today.
Now, let's rap!