I know that we haven’t always had the smoothest ride together, but I wanted to take the time to thank you for being the father that you are. Being a father is challenging, but there is no better reward than a son who looks up to you. I can say that from experience. Max son is now seven, and just starting to leave the phase of his life in which I am the end-all-be-all. For the past several years–in his mind–I knew everything, could do anything, and was the epitome of cool. I was his Miles Davis, Clint Eastwood, and Stephen Hawking…all rolled into one. How awesome is that? Those are heady heights, and while I can’t say that you necessarily have reached those, I can say that the memories we have shared together are ones I’ll have forever.
From Kagoshima to Norwich, we’ve seen some cool shit (we’ve also seen Wigan). We have also had some fun times that I won’t ever forget, and I appreciate how much we have closer we have grown over the years. I can honestly say that I couldn’t really imagine sitting in the stands at Craven Cottage with anyone else; we really have shared some things that are uniquely ours. Thanks for those opportunities; I wouldn’t have had them without you, and long may it continue.
You’re the Michael Jackson to my Mohamed al-Fayed, and always will be.
Happy Father’s Day. I love you.