Tribute

When I was in college, I missed the team bus to a big basketball tournament in Reno. My car died on the way to the pickup spot, and it was totally my fault. I was crushed. I called my dad, not expecting much. He only had a motorcycle back then. But he just said, “I’ll take you.” He bought two bus tickets and we bussed it all the way from San Jose to Reno. My coach didn’t let me play for missing the bus, so I ended up taping the games from the bleachers. But my dad got me there. He hung out, gambled a little, just stayed close the whole time. That was him. He showed up in these real, unforgettable ways. I think about things like that. Us fishing. Playing Resident Evil at Dave & Buster’s and feeding the game until we beat it. Sitting at the Lex together, that iconic SF lesbian bar, just having a drink and talking. He wasn’t around much when I was growing up. But later in life, he loved me loud and clear. And I’ll always carry that

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