Happy Father’s Day!


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This is my dad.   He gave me both my poor vision and my innate Russian sense of melancholy and the feeling that we’re all going to die soon.  I love him anyway.  He not only painted a whole piano for me (a piano I stopped playing after about a year), he also made me breakfast almost every morning I went to school, reminded me gently to put on a jacket (by telling me he would beat me if I didn’t), and taught me how to drive, an experience that I’m sure contributed single-handedly to an increase in blood pressure on his behalf.  I’m so lucky to have a dad who not only loves me so much, but can cut a mean turkey.  Spasibo, Pap.

If you also have a Russian father that has raised you by threats of beatings, please tell him how grateful you are that you are now an upstanding, fine citizen.