Chaotic good

Growing up, I thought my father’s full-time vocation was embarrassing me.

This was a self-centered view, of course. But I was a hemmed-in, quiet kid, while my father was an expansive, boisterous soul who gave out hugs like candy at Halloween.

I was a congenital rule follower. My father never met a rule that he didn’t want to go out of his way to disobey. To him, a “No Parking” sign was less a construct of an…