A Father's Gift

June, 1962

When my mother got married the third time they went to Switzerland for the jousting and I had to move in with my old man. I don't hate him, but he's so goddamn charming. He enters a room and dainty feminine undergarments begin to drop like autumn leaves. No kidding. I've seen him just look at some dame he'd never even met before, and right away I could see old Dad was home free once again. Intellectually, of course, he's a lightweight.He's an illustrator. If Coca-Cola wants a painting of a gorge...

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