Clare's Dad

Michele and I went out to breakfast Saturday morning at a Cheers-like place, where everybody knows your name, sort of.  We were sitting at a table not far from the cashier when an older gentleman went up to pay.  I recognized him as a teacher from Clare’s high school and a volunteer softball coach.  I waved, but he had no idea who I was.  Then I shouted, “Clare’s dad,” and he came right on over.  Talk about humbling.

There was a “Star Trek” episode once where the Enterprise went back in time to the 20^th century.  Poking around the upper atmosphere of Earth, the good ship caught the attention of an Air Force fighter pilot.  One thing led to another, and the pilot was taken onboard as his jet disintegrated.  Captain Kirk and company wanted to get back to their own time, only there was a problem.  Their new passenger had done nothing remarkable or history-changing in his life but for one thing—he fathered a child who went on to become a famous space explorer.

That makes me the dad in this scenario.  And did I ever mention that Clare wanted to be an astronaut at one time?  We even visited the Johnson Space Center.