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I found out that my father googled me tonight, found a poem-story I'd written and told me I was brilliant. I guess I didn't ever realize he would think to do such a thing, and so I found it slightly weird yet flattering all the same. I won't let him read any of my work although I do admire him. He's recently finished making a movie out of one of his screen plays, loosely based on my amazing Grandfather's life who earned a piece of land to his name right in Hell's Kitchen. My father was a school teacher for forty years and has only now begun living out his dreams for the past year with a little sweat and blood as a small price to pay for passion, however. And money is always a strain of course, but it's really happening, fame or no fame, it gives me hope for some day. Maybe it's never too late.