Rant #1,791: My Dad

Today, November 30, 2016, is a big day in my family.

My dad turns 85 years old today.

By doing so, he catches up with my mom, who turned the same age in March.

Eighty-five years old ... I can't believe it, but on the other hand, I can believe it.

He is my hero, always was my hero, and always will be my hero.

We are at times as different as night and day, but what he taught me was competitiveness, and the value of family.

Family always comes first above everything else.

My father had humble beginnings, growing up on the Lower East Side of New York, but he made it, through hard work, proving that the American Dream exists.

I talk about my job travails, but he had perhaps an even bigger one more than 50 years ago.

He was a butcher, and old-style kosher chicken butcher, working with my grandfather in their store on Delancey Street.

But New York City was changing, the business was not what it was, and the final nail in the coffin was the the city was going to build a highway right through the store.

He had to make a decision--stay with the butcher business or try something else.

He not only tried something else, but he made it a career--he became a New York City licensed medallion cab driver and owner, and became quite a success with his change in career.

It helped us as a family, it enabled us to eventually move out of New York City and into a supposed better life in the suburbs, and what's more, my dad loved doing what he was doing.

Whether he picked up common folk or celebrities--from Michael J. Fox to Tiny Tim to Martin Scorcese to Jackie Kennedy Onassis to Earl Weaver and many more--he treated them all alike, with respect, even if he sometimes didn't get that back in return.

He also picked up people who didn't fit into society for whatever reason, and transported them where they needed to go. Less the cash, a "thank you" was all he needed.

He finally retired a few months ago. He suffered a bout of pneumonia, but his will to get better trumped everything else, and we should all have recovered and be as healthy as he is at this age today--of course, my mother had a lot to do with that, helping him follow the regimen to get better.

He always talks about living "the good life," and this former Marine, with two kids--my sister and I--and five grandkids, a nice home, and a loving wife, certainly fits that bill.

He is the strongest person I know, and like me, stubborn as all heck. He loves to win, hates to lose, but again, family always comes first.

So, on this momentous day, I wish him at least 85 years more of "the good life."

He is truly my hero, and I truly thank him for being there for me all the time, and being the best father a guy could ever have.