My dadwas his own alarm clock.
My father woke up everymorning like this.
Dad, you OK?
Yeah, I just gotto change brands.
Man had six heart attacks.
He had a large heart.
It's when a giant sack ofwater forms around your heart.
Yeah, I always saidI had a giant sack.
Ha, ha, ha.
Those are my father'sactual jokes.
And because he wassuch a tough badass,
we didn't get alongvery well growing up.
He didn't believe in coddlingthe kid at all, you know.
We used to get in my fist fightsgrowing up, I mean, fistfights.
I don't understand parents.
I really don't.
I have two kids now, andI don't quite get this.
You know, Jonathan,you're acting up.
Let's go see a therapist.
If I got mad at mydad when I was a kid
and really gotlike in a tantrum,
I just woke up two dayslater not mad anymore.
And we used toget in fist fights
growing up man and brawls.
But the one placewe always got along
was the Oakland Road Show.
We're big car guys.
We'd go to the big car showthey had up in Oakland.
It's actually in LA now.
But we'd go to Oakland.We'd go every year.
And we went from when I wasfive until I was a grown man.
And once we walkedthrough those doors,
it didn't matter howbad my grades were
or what a drunkidiot he was being.
The second we wentthrough there,
it was just father and son,as close as we ever were.
And as I became older andyou know, grew to a man,
we started sharing real intimatedetails about our lives.
And sometimes, when you'rethat close to somebody,
you wish they had someoneelse they were that close to.
Because there were somethings I didn't need to hear.
Now, there's going tobe an age where I'll
get to either we don'tcare what we say anymore
or you forget sound travels.
My father and I are in theOakland Colosseum one day,
the convention part atthe Oakland Road Show,
just walking through it.Just walking through it.
I'm a grown man, we're justwalking through the thing.
And my dad just blurts this out.
Ah, can't get hard anymore.
What do you want me to do?