Dad...

I've tried several times to write this post today... 

Dad was never conventional, so our relationship with him never was either.  He tried for years to get us to call him Les, not sure why he thought Dad, didn't suit him. But to Kelli and I he was always just Dad. Our Dad...

Converse high tops, crazy t-shirts, pink hospital or short tennis shorts...he was never proper or predictable...

His only worries, how horrible rap music was and how terrible who ever the republican president was, was....

He was a tennis player, a marching band director, a master percussionist and a cat lover.

My first memory of him, is conducting the pit orchestra for Peter Pan, I was three(I remember the red velvet theatre seats, Peter Pan flying and Dad's baton) ....he is the reason I love and understand music today...

He taught us to ski, even though my mom forbid it....

He taught me the fine art of sailor linguistics...

He taught me that being different was perfect.

He taught me that status or title meant nothing but being kind did.

Thanks, Les. 

Happy Father's Day! <3