My father died when I was 13 years of age. However, I could regal you all with hours of stories in which he did things that were over the top for me as a young man and for my mother who was paralyzed on her right side. All that while he was on the road Monday through Friday in a sales job---I traveled with him in the Summers which was incredlible. We's sing, play license plate cribbage and tell horror stories on the road. I learned more about printing presses and textile mills than some of the guys who worked on them. My dad's territory was Texas, Oklahoma, La. and Ark. and he hit every Mill and Newspaper in each twice a year. We were inseperable. He even gave me little jobs while he did calls.
He was my coach in baseball and he was great. He played minor league ball before the war (WWII). The day he died he said take care of your mother till I get back...he'd never said that before. Next thing I knew a priest from Ft. Worth came to the door and I was picking out the casket for my dad's funeral...all at 13.
My dad taught me to treat women with the respect they demand and if they don't demand any you don't want anything to do with them. I have always found that wise.
My dad taught me that if you don't like the way things are around you to gets up off your ass and do something about it.