One of the biggest hurdles to writing this memoir I’m cooking is unpacking my relationship with my dad. When he died about 5 years ago (right after I shipped off to exile), we hadn’t spoken in about 8 years. The years before that weren’t exactly full of quality time either. In fact, he’d been at a fair distance my whole life, and especially after I hit high school. Most of that was my doing, in the sense that it was my choice to shut him out of my mind and heart, so of course now that he has the ultimate last word (that of no last word forever), I can’t compare our memories of key events, or really try to understand him and his motivations and fears. It makes it really tough to find some truths about what made me the guy I am today. And it’s plain sad, too. Continue reading Ok, Getting Serious