Father’s Day

I know I haven’t written about Friday or Saturday yet, but bear with me. Today is a special day. So I am copying my email to my dad into this entry. Mostly because he deserves the recognition, even if he doesn’t read my blog.

Hey Dad!

Today is Father’s Day. So, happy day! I kept reading tweets (that’s TWITTER speak) posted by coffee shops and Farmer’s Markets in Manhattan and Brooklyn about how they had everything I need for Father’s Day. Upon further investigation, it was “vintage this” and “record that” and “coffee this”. And I just thought, “I am pretty sure today is just another excuse to have a sale for hipsters”. 
 
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=hipster&defid=2705928 (For if you need a tutorial on “hipster”. See also: Your son.)
 
Because, you see, you’re a cool guy. You don’t listen to vinyl, which is completely fine. I define myself as a “pop culture diva,” but can only dub myself that as a direct result of the way that I was raised… by my culturally-entangled parents. And I love that. I love that about us. And about Mom. And about you. Which is why I would NEVER go rifling through some “vintage” s**t to find something for you for Father’s Day.
 
Actually, I send this email bearing no gifts. I apologize for what seems like a lack of preparation for this holiday, but I feel like I should be celebrating you year-round. You and mom are such kind, generous, amazing, influential people. You inspire not only your children to be better people and to fight and LIVE for something, but you make an impact on the people around you every single day. I know you never believe me when I say that, but there has never been a time that I have gone solo to the other Schneiders’ house and they haven’t said something about how amazing you are. When I went to Pius, teachers told me how great you were. Byers worshipped the ground you walked on for all that you did for the sports program. I could sense parents reminiscing when they realized you were my dad and remembering days when they went to school with you, or met you here, or saw you there. It’s like you know EVERYONE and EVERYONE loves you.
 
So, today, in this ridiculous email that I am typing from my bed/couch in Manhattan, I am long-distance thanking you simply for being MY dad. You could be ANYONE’S dad, but I am the lucky girl that got you in one helluva lottery. Also, thank you for serving as so many other peoples’ dad. My friends love that they can hold conversations with you, and EVERYONE loves your sense of humor. Talk yourself down out of compliments. That’s okay. I do that too. I got that from you. 
 
And I couldn’t be more thankful.
 
I love you! I’ll call you soon!
Love,
Dither Grace/Your Little M.G.
Below: Me and my Daddy, on my 21st Birthday.
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