August 2004, I'm 19. I'm at the doorway of what's going to be my new bedroom, which I'm sharing with my dad, who I haven't seen since I was two. And left side of the bedroom is super clean. It's got a mattress that he stole from me. On the right side is his side that's mostly Western Union receipts. Ripped up scratch off lottery cards Lots of movies all over the ground But every night He always watched the same movie Not Terminator, not Die Hard But Filla on the Roof I can't tell you why this Ecuadorian man Loved Filla on the Roof But he watched it every night And he would ask me, his estranged son Come watch Filla on the Roof with me And I was like, no Besides the fact that it's like a three and a half hour Or however many hour saga I at that time just didn't feel comfortable being in this very small room when I say small you know like the back of a u-haul like the tiny truck that you could probably afford like small than that so I would usually be in the living room and I would actually sleep in the living room of this apartment so he was renting a room from this lady friend that he knew it's actually not too far from here like 39th place in Queens Boulevard so a couple blocks away and I kind of felt bad after just always saying no that serendipitously in October same year, Phil on the Roof was on Broadway. Alfred Molina was playing the lead, and I was like, I'll surprise him, I'll get tickets. Now, here's the thing. I have kind of a language barrier. Like, yes, father-son language barrier, but like, my español is like very muy malo, if you catch my drift. So I told dad, hey, vamos salir outside, let's go. And I have like a little like translation book that's like not working for me, and he's just like, and whatever Spanish you're about to hear right now is like very rehearsed. No, mijo, canamos en la casa. Just stay home. Let's watch Fiddler on the Roof. Vamos Fiddler on the Roof. And I'm like, no, let's go. I'll pay for everything. He's like, great, let's go. The trip there, super anxious. My father likes to smoke in between the train carts of the 7th train. And he also likes to like stop. Not like walk and talk. He likes to stop and tell you a story. Imagine doing that in Times Square. So we finally get there, but we're like super late. But just enough to hear the opening song, Tradition, for those who know, that's the big number, and it gives the whole story of the town and this Jewish family. And I look, and I'm like, oh, man, he's probably going to be super excited. He's going to be moved. He's going to be amazing. He hasn't been saying anything since we got in. I don't really think he understood where we are. Dead. He's asleep. hi my little like abandoned child heart broken I nudge him and he's just like