Happy Father’s Day: I buried mine when I was 16 years old. Lung cancer. He was a homophobe but loved and supported his son anyway. Very militaristic, taught me how to be organized, clean, and tidy, and often said: “Let your work speak for itself.” Told me to keep my shoes and belts always clean. Loved the cars as I do, and said: “The car is a representation of you as a man; keep it clean, keep it maintained; it will serve you well.” Knowing my obsession with computers, he bought me one with his limited funds. I still appreciate it. Not a pity party, life can be real sometimes. Rest in peace, Dad. You are greatly missed, and I know you would be very proud of me.