One of the earliest memories I have is playing in the backyard of our house in California. It’s summer, it’s hot, we have an inflatable pool on the lawn with a foot of water in it. I must be about 5 or 6 years old and I’m in and out of the pool. My dad is wearing shorts, no shirt, and a light blue fisherman’s style hat made out of that terry, towel material, and he’s smoking a cigar while he’s working in the yard. There is one of those big umbrellas shoved in the ground, with white, blue, red and yellow panels so there is a little shade on the pool when I’m splashing around. There are little tiny frogs in our yard and I’ve caught some and put them in the pool with me. I pretend they are exotic fish and swim around with them in the 12 inches of water. Dad comes around and checks on me every few minutes and I can smell his cigar before I see him. And it’s not a bad smell, it’s dad. Geez summers were really good when we were kids, weren’t they?
