Like many grown men, my father cried like a baby during the father-son reunion at the end of Field of Dreams. I always thought it was a corny, maudelin scene. After my dad died, I was told that I might react differently to that scene. I've actually seen it since, and I still think it's phony, but it has effectively reminded me of my dad and how he found it moving.

The old man was never one to be made a fuss over on Father's Day. Just a quick call, "How are ya, Pop? Happy Father's Day." That's all he ever wanted. To be recognized. Now he's gone but I still like to think that he's got a cosmic subscription to the Banter. So, Happy Father's Day, Pop. And the same goes to my brother, an impressive young father of two, and all the other dads out there, who are holding down one of the most challenging yet rewarding jobs in the world. Big up yourself.