This week, I took a train out to Long Island to meet my grandparents at their friends' house. As I walked in the door, I gave and received a kiss on the cheek from every man and woman, most of whom I either didn't know or had met when I was too young to remember. At one point, one of them held my shoulders and took a step back for a better look before saying, "sheesh, you look just like your fahhtha."

They asked how my father was doing, said that he should visit some time. They regaled me with old stories of my father's Little League games many years ago—"lemme tell yuh, you shoulda seem him out in centa field, oooh gawd could the kid flahy. And when he was battin'? Fugetaboutit."

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Source: http://www.thecrimson.com/