fatherly-advice

Rolando pursed his lips and sighed. __ust be careful._ __hy, because her father carries a gun?_ Isaac said. __ren__ you the one who always said guns don__ shoot people?___o, it was you who said that._ Rolando corrected his son. ____e said fathers with guns and beautiful daughters shoot people. Boys in particular._ __ou worry too much, dad._ __ne day, when you are a father, you will understand.

Just __ause a body says somethin_ don__ make it so. You know who you are, and they can__ change that no matter what them cacklin_ hens is to say._ He tapped him on the chest. __hat matters is what__ in here, son. Not a soul can take that away from you.

Your father says a wise man can see more from the bottom of a well than a fool can from a mountaintop.

And you can do far more for us from America than you can from here, where you__e just another defenseless Christian. So if you really want to help, Inas, then you__l go to the very best school you can get into and earn the best grades you can.

I recall those beautiful summer mornings with my parents by the sandy beach of Belek. My father used to teach me how to ride waves. I remember him constantly emphasizing the fact that no wave, no matter how big it is should stir enough fear inside me to keep me glued to the shore. He used to repeat those words while glancing at my mother with a smile that could set the whole sea on fire. My mother, sitting on the beach, too afraid of the deep blue sea, contented herself with building sand castles, ones my father would step on trying to drag her hopelessly into water. Step on your sand castle and dive deep. Dive deep into the unknown. Life is damn too short for building sand castles.

If I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.

As dad would always say, when in doubt- play for time.

I suddenly remember being about seven, riding beside him in the car, and asking him how grown-ups found their way to places. After all, I had never seen him pull out a map."I guess we just get used to taking the same turns," he said, but I wasn't satisfied."Then what about the first time you go somewhere?""Well," he said, "we get directions."But what I want to know is who got them the very first time? What if no one's ever been where you're going? "Dad?" I ask, "is it true that you can use stars like a map?""Yeah, if you understand celestial navigation.""Is it hard?" I'm thinking maybe I should learn. A backup plan, for all those times I feel like I'm just wandering in circles."It's pretty jazzy math__ou have to measure the altitude of a star, figure out its position using a nautical almanac, figure out what you think the altitude should be and what direction the star should be in based on where you think you are, and compare the altitude you measured with the one you calculated. Then you plot this on a chart, as a line of position. You get several lines of position to cross, and that's where you go." My father takes one look at my face and smiles. "Exactly," he laughs. "Never leave home without your GPS.

If you can't do what you really want to do, then do the next best thing!