I was raised in a home overflowing with civic responsibility. And while I believe every citizen should impact positive contribution and change, sometimes my dad takes it a little too far. He’s what we’d call a “joiner.” Any club, any organization, any cause that piques his interest - he’ll enthusiastically sign right up.
With my mother in Mexico, celebrating her birthday by slaving away at some orphanage with her girlfriends, dad and Alex invited me over to a dinner of duck and lentils, created from a complicated Wall Street Journal recipe that fascinated them. We stood around the kitchen drinking beer, as Alex hovered over the stove and dad pontificated about his latest community escapades.
“Well, that’s exactly what we were talking about at my N.E.R.T. meeting.”
“What the hell is nert?”
“Neighborhood Emergency Response Team!”
“You and emergencies. You love those natural disasters.”
“Do you want to see my uniform?”
“You have a uniform?”
“Don’t move!” He went running upstairs.
“Dad is losing it.”
“Wait till you get a load of the uniform.”