First thing that comes to mind when I think about my Dad is “coulda been worse”.
He taught me how to play baseball and golf. He did cool “traditional” things on days like Super Bowl Sunday and the college football National Championship. He went to great lengths to keep the Santa story alive.
He taught me how to treat people the same regardless of their color or sexuality.
He got up early five days a week for his 2 hour one way commute to work in NYC.
He has a very funny laugh.
He also went way overboard about a dozen times while disciplining me:
He beat me to a pull with an extension cord. My Mom jumped in between us to save me.
He hit me with a metal rake so hard that it punctured an artery in my right calf and I lost a ton of blood.
He woke me up in the middle of the night on several occasions to show me that my Mom wasn’t home (she was having an affair mostly because my Dad could be an incredibly selfish, temperamental asshole at times).
Gamelive.com is like therapy sometimes, ya know?