My dad’s birthday is June 10th so he’s never really celebrated Father’s Day on its own.  We tend to combine the two events into one.  He’s like the kid whose birthday is December 24th.  Hard as his parents try, he always gets gipped.  Well, this year should be different.  It’s his 80th, after all.  My earliest memories of my dad are of him as an elementary school principal in the Hayward Public Schools. I would often come with him to special school events in the evening like the annual Spring Concert.  My dad would always say a few things to the audience.  Just a brief welcome which he rehearsed in the car on the ride over. His style of speaking in a prepared/extemporaneously way, I now realize, is a model for me when I have to speak in front of a crowd.  Each year of my early childhood, I attended summer school with him with some special perks as the principal’s daughter.  I especially remember grape-flavored Fanta soda in the teachers’ lounge. I think Dad would say that one of his regrets is not learning to speak Italian growing up.  His father felt it was important that, as an immigrant, he and my grandmother speak only English in the home.  Turned out to be a big missed opportunity for their two children.  I’m hoping to rectify that by learning Italian.  I’m determined to be able to say Buon Compleanno Papa and know what I’m saying.