Today I want to give a big shout-out to my father who turns 75 years old. I often give my mother credit for my photographic roots that began the day she laid a Kodak Instamatic into my hand. But it was my father’s undeniable drive and passion for writing that has been the benchmark for much of my adult life. I have spent the last 35 years carving out my own identify, only to conclude it’s pointless, because we share so much in common, beyond just DNA.

A few things I love about my dad:

• He’s a dreamer and has an amazing ability to visualize a goal and bring it to fruition. He’s taught me that anything can be achieved as long as you put your mind to it.
• His love for writing and telling a good story has led to many well written and vastly exaggerated tales, some that have left me wondering. But the stories are so good, who cares!?
• He’s shameless. Truly shameless, but endearingly so. Probably where I got my self-deprecating humor. But we’re true to who we are.
• He’s forgiving to a fault, and for that he makes no apologies. I call it compassion.
• Sometimes I call him Dad, but he responds better to “Jack,” so you guessed it, Jack it is.
• He uses Ziplocs like the Anal Retentive Chef from Saturday Night Live and I sincerely believe he would feel better if everyone would follow his lead. And don’t forget to date and label them.
• He’s a very youthful 75 and as my 95 year old Grandma would say, “ He’s got plenty of time to get old.”

Happy Birthday, Dad. Love ya (in a dude sort of way).