At this point in our cyber-relationship, I should tell you something that explains a little about how I got this way — Something that opens a window into the personal realm and reveals a piece of my unique genetic makeup. In time, you may come to conclude that many of my genes are made up like clowns. The following is a conversation I had with my father this morning:

"Well, I wanted to talk to somebody and my buddy wasn't available. So I figured I'd call you." Background noise told me he was somewhere bustling and alive.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"At Panera Bread," he said. "I just came out to be seen."

"Ah. The paparazzi follow you?"

"No, but there's a woman who wants my table. She's wandering around with her tray repeating over and over again to the room at large, 'There's no seats. There's no seats.' Yep, it's crowded in here... people camped out on laptops. And then, of course, me with the paper talking on the phone."

"Surely someone absorbed in their facebook page wearing iPod headphones will offer up their spot."

"If not, next time she comes around I'll flag her down and tell her how much longer I'll be. I've only got three more crossword puzzles to get through."

I let out a laugh. This only encourages him. "Well it's good news, at least, that they're busy," I remarked. "I don't remember the last time I went anywhere overflowing with customers."

"Yeah, either they're having a costume party, or it's lunch hour at the hospital next door."

Then we dropped the act and talked for a few minutes like normal, reasonable people do — updates on what we're doing and how we've been. He told me the latest on a situation of concern to him. I filled his ear with the intimate details of job prospects. It was sincere. It was real.

"Well, I'm getting phone ear," he finally said — our usual cue to wrap it up. "Plus that lady on the walker is looking pretty tired of wandering around."

I've never introduced him to a friend who didn't agree: my Dad's a funny guy. He's a know-it-all student of current affairs with keen observations of human behavior. These things coupled with a fine-tuned ear for dialog make him an expert satirist with spot-on timing. Probably anyone who's ever excused themselves from his side at a cocktail party would tell you that he's one of the most gifted storytellers you could hope to ease away from. I'm certainly no match for his quick-witted way with words. But it makes me honored to think that anyone who's still reading this — who hasn't yet excused themselves in favor of housework or nail care — might see some evidence... a shade of truth to that old adage that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.