I wasn't always a "Daddy's Girl". I think I became one when we shared our love of literature and old trucks. Therefore, when we shared a love for The Princess Bride, we became closer than ever.
Also, I have never met, nor do I ever think I will meet, someone who can imitate Vizzini's voice as well as my father. It never ceases to amaze me how such a large man can mimic a little, lispy hunchback. Inconceivable.
The perfect homie to share my research with was too easy to find. Because I already had one, and we have been sharing ideas since I was little. That's right, my good ol' daddy-o turned out to be my homedawg all along. If he ever reads this, he'll probably relish in the fact that I called him that. That's for you, pops. I love you.
Then I told him my ideas and shared my personal narrative. Of course he was delighted. Of course he was interested. Of course he was proud. But more than anything, my dad was a wall.
A wall? Yep. Hear me out.
He was the perfect thing to bounce ideas off of. Just like racquetball, folks. I could swing that little racket and send a ball his way, and sometimes he'd send it right back (those were the times he would agree whole-heartedly) and sometimes that ball would bounce funny and come back at an angle I wasn't expecting (those were the times he would slightly agree, or even disagree) and those were the best times. By bouncing my ideas off of such an awesome homie, I was able to round out my ideas in ways that I could not do myself. The unexpected ideas are what make research so exciting, just as those surprising corner shots in raquetball make it a game.
And that's what this is, isn't it? A game. A honing of skills, a discovery, a sense of teamwork.
I'm a terrible racquetball player.
Here's to hoping I'm a better research(ball) player.