Tuesday, December 6, 2022
This maybe the earliest memory of my father.
A toddler at the Catskill Game Farm. I was given a handful of treats to feed the petting zoo inmates and was immediately overwhelmed and surrounded by carnivorous sheep and goats.
Certain I would be torn apart, my days as a baby were surely done for. And then he arrived ... My father, looking like a mix between a superhero and Swedish model, swooped in and took control of the wool and feta rioteers, rescuing me from the sharp talons and murderous fangs of Ol McDonald's farm experiments.
He was my friend, my father, my idea of strength and a tough as hell bastard. I use to say I would be lucky to be half the man he was but now, going forward, I know I'm going to need to be tougher, the "new and improved" as he would say to me. Forever his Stallion ( his nick name for me) He will always be my eternal cowboy.
