On a cool Arizona night in 1984, two employees at McDonald's were entranced by the seductive whispers of the Coke machine and sultry spitting of the fryer.
This man, and this woman, took off their health code mandated hair nets, stripped off their grease soaked uniforms, and made sweet, sweet love. From that love, sprung a little baby hamburglar. I AM THAT LITTLE BABY HAMBURGLAR!!
My dad is a pretty cool dude. Admittedly, after that sweet, sweet love on the bleach-wiped McDonald's countered...my parents were not prepared for a wee baby. My poor Pop specifically, was not particularly fond of the idea. But it only took him about 20 years to start warming up to the idea. We are now buds, and I have long been fascinated with his resume. He has done everything from drive a zamboni to substitute teach gym classes to deliver the shit out of some cookies. On many a drunk and (ahem) "green-filled" evening, my father has lectured me sternly about find a passion and pursuing it. I have taken that advice to heart (with the help of my baller mother's bank-roll), and I continue to try to find something awesome to do with my life. I figured, why not have a sit down chat with the fella who made me?! I proudly present to you...my father.
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