I think my dad took me to see The Jungle Book nearly half a dozen times while it was in the theaters. We would walk out of there all sugar high and singing. He would get Whoppers and I always got the Dots. He told me they would make my hair grow and I believed him. He told me a lot of unbelievable things that I totally ran with. Such as.. those giant round bails of hay? He had me believing they were cow eggs and yeah, at 5 or 6 years old that made sense to me! He told me that speed bumps were where they buried all the neighborhood pets and he would make sad tiny cat sounds when we drove over them. Dark? Maybe. Hilarious? Absolutely! He’s my funny Dad. He’s a man who has done many things and he’s done all of them well. He worked at the Paramount for years and then opened a head shop at 19th and Lavaca. It was called the White House. Because well, he’s my funny Dad. He worked for MCA Records for most of my life and supplied me and my friends with albums before they hit the shelf, the best of seats and all the backstage passes. I was spoiled for sure. He has also introduced me to some of my all time favorite things.. Transcendental Meditation, Tom Petty (the man himself and his music), the art of telling a good joke and ice cream. Apparently I was resistant to the ice cream. I don’t know who I would be with out him. So this one is for him. Love you Dad. Happy Fathers Day. Wish I could have made you breakfast.

Day 158: Hash.. sweet and reggae potatoes with an unidentified squash I grew in my garden (who knows how these things happen) with broccoli stalks and florets and arugula with a cheesy friend egg.