You remember one very very sore point. How I LOVED the Red Sox. I grew-up only 30 minutes from Fenway. I SO wanted to go to games from age 6 - on. He would never ever take me. I would not go with others down the road in my teens because I felt it would be a betrayal to go without him. When I emerged in the business world and made enough money for ANYTHING I wanted, I thought I finally had the problem fixed. I figured he never wanted to spend any of his ample dollars on the Sox. So, I would buy us the best tickets possible, do the driving, buy the dinner, etc.
FK! Still hurts like hell.
Hell needs firewood too ya know!