Happy Birthday and Late Father’s Day to my dad, Rick.
Thanks to him, I doubt I will ever be a stripper, and if I was it would at least be for some kind of respectable reason– like to get myself through law school or something.
My dad also contributed to my borderline delusional sense of self esteem, which is probably directly related to the song he made up for me, wherein the first verse begs the question “who’s the prettiest girl in the world?” Well, it’s “Dara. Dara Laine Sussman.” The second verse gets into some heavier themes like, “who has the prettiest big, blue eyes?” This is the song’s opinion, not mine, but apparently it is also “Dara. Dara Laine Sussman.” I’ve heard this song regularly since infancy, if that answers any questions about my personality.
My dad can’t get all the credit for that… I got this Facebook message from my mom recently:
My dad should teach a masterclass in how to raise daughters because he’s the best. He’s been killing the game since 1988, and makes Carl Winslow look like the inspiration for the song ‘Cats in the Cradle.’
He’s a chill dude, a great drinking buddy, and I’m so appreciative of all my orthodontic work he paid for.