Today is my dad’s birthday. I think he’s approximately 4,000 years old, but he doesn’t really look much older than, say, 62.

But he’s been natty since he was very young:

(He’s the small one.)

As with my mom, I’ve definitely written about him before. And he’s also provided content.

I think my dad and I are a well-matched father and daughter, as fathers and daughters go.

Things both of us are:

Good on stage
Goofy as hell
Pros at working the crowd, but still shy
Music addicts
Scoffers
Sports lovers
Magazine nuts
Night owls
Good on a road trip
Prone to rant
Loud sneezers
Indulgent with people we love
Difficult to manage when we feel like being difficult to manage
Ridiculously good looking (He is! He is! I’m just kidding about me, though.)
Able to find the bargains on the high-ticket items

We have our differences, though, too.

Things we differ on:

Capacity to deal with spices (He can’t, not so much)
Ability to deal with laptop issues (He can’t, not so much)
Love of 70′s BritComs (He does, me not so much)
Being ordained (He is, I’m not.)
Bizarre attention to detail when it comes to clothing care (Him, not me)
Ability to play instruments (He can, I can’t)
Ability to swear in several languages (That’s me)
Ability to shop in thrift stores (I have some sort of OCD block on it, he’s a pro)
Ability to speak anything other than English, period (That’s me)
Ability to do more than boil water and make nachos (That would be me)

I think it all balances out nicely.

What is most important for you to know about my dad, other than the fact that he is brilliant, funny, creative, thoughtful, and full of love for his family, is that he is strong.

Strong enough to make me feel safe in a shaky world.
Strong enough to stand up for what he believes.
Strong enough to stay the course.
Strong enough to survive mountains of hurt because there’s no other option.
Strong enough to take care of the people in his life who need him.
Strong enough to admit when he’s not feeling strong, to just the right people, who will be there until he is strong again.

I love my dad so much I can’t even tell you. I can try, but I know it’s all half-assed compared to what is in my heart.

The way he treated me (and still treats me), and the way he and my mom love me is the foundation for anything good I will ever be or say or do.

My future husband has a hell of a guy to live up to. I better pick well, huh?

Or my dad will most likely kill him.

Just kidding.

I think.

Thanks for being you, Daddy. Happy Birthday.