The first time I smoked a cigarette in front of my dad was on the way back from upstate NY in a '68 VW van with the old man at the wheel. We had just delivered a school bus engine, a fucking greasy, oil-dripping hulk that took up the whole interior. (Maybe I should elaborate.... nah... you get the picture) Dad bought a school bus and turned it into a camper. The whole family was stranded after the engine blew a piston through the cylinder head on a downslope in some place called Fuckme, NY. After a day of eating peanut butter and warm jelly sandwiches, we named it Fly, NY. (There were a lot of flies) Anyways... the old man looked at me with contempt as I sucked on that Marlboro. But he was smoking too, so he couldn't get that mad. I had the best father that ever lived. I can't wait to see him again.