My dad comes up quite a bit in this blog. In fact, he was in the very first of these 500 (wow, time flies) consecutive posts. I suppose it's a testament to the good father he's been throughout my life, supporting every crazy thing I've done from jumping out of airplanes to moving to New York. As much as he may hate that I've been away from home for so long chasing my ambitions, he knows that he has only himself to blame. For he taught me to always follow my passion. And I learned that by his example. I always remember my grandpa today as well. We lost him when I was 16, but thankfully have a lifetime of memories to carry with me. I remember him standing at the grill as the family gathered outside, enjoying a summer afternoon. I remember his collection of Energizer Bunnies, and the way he sat side by side with my grandma in their rockers with his dog, Sam on his lap. When I think of him , I think of a man who survived more obstacles in his life than probably anyone