My dad was so cool. He had the first convertible Mustang in Alaska, and that wasn't his first or his last convertible. He got us a Wurlitzer juke box, and towed my sister and me, and all our friends on water skis, at his cabin on Big Lake, the cool people's lake. He knew what a GTO was, and how to build a dock or a rocking chair and how to measure a hypotenuse with a stick instead of a theorem, but he knew the theorem, too.
So, I always assumed I was the cool dad, too. Even though, except for a bitter, hurtful sense of humor, we had almost nothing in common. And I still thought I was the cool dad, whatever that might mean now that my children are both in their fourth decade. But last night, I recorded a show on TNT, so I could watch the show I recorded on TBS. How cool is that?