Oh, and then my dad worked for Ford Motor Company
for most of his career, so I wrote him a little poem here.
This is a letter I found that was really funny, and also sad.
He had full attendance almost every year
for this long period of time, and while I
was looking at the dates, I was thinking
about what I was doing, and then I
felt really bad and guilty because I was not
thinking about my father having full attendance
and working really hard to support his family,
then else guilt came in.
But I was also like, who would have full attendance?
It's just not healthy, like that wouldn't fly today, right?
But I'll read you this tiny poem I wrote for him.
Was this your first job?
Look at the window behind you as if leaving a country
was all perspective and light.
I wonder what is in your hand.
It's so thin and small.
It must be my home.
And my friend who's an artist said put a thumbprint
onto that little index card and just make a little indentation
just like your dad who's holding a card in his hand.
So she-- it was fun to work with her on this,
and she gave me a lot of good ideas.
So I'm going to keep it going.
I won't read you that, and I just messed around
with all sorts of things.
We had a restaurant growing up and--