As cheesy and predictable as it may sound, it's my Dad.

My father has always pushed me --- almost dared me --- to achieve beyond whatever I thought possible. He is, frankly, an intellectual and psychological genius. He's 80 now and though age, a stroke, a serious accident and open-heart surgery have ravaged his body, his brain is still very sharp.

I will say, too, that I've put my parents through a bit of hell. I was 16 (just a week shy of 17) when I started college. It was my first time on my own and I took advantage of it. Man, did I ever party! Dad told me after my first term in college, "Son, college isn't brain surgery. Just get your lazy ass up and go to class. Chances are you'll absorb something."

That was like being given the keys to the kingdom. My grades soared and my Dad's approval continued to push me to new heights scholastically and, once in the world of work, vocationally.

I've been pretty successful in my life. And I owe it all to Dad, the master psychologist and the guy who has never been hesitant to tell me that he loved me --- and, more than that, that he was proud of me.

This one may fade away, as have others. But while it lasts I have enjoyed the conversation. Thanks, Cowboy, especially.

You'll see me in another thought another night. Guaranteed. Maybe you'll even talk back. I look forward to it.

Im curious as to what you think. We don't know each other but oddly your opinion means something to me... I really want to continue a nightly thought, hoping folks will respond. Silly?

Hey, Melissa, you still around?

How did you come up with the idea for tonight? What made you think of it?

If you can come up with an new topic every night, I say go for it. But that sounds difficult to me. :-)

As far as who has influenced me, I'm not coming up with anyone off the top my head, and I'm about to fall asleep in my chair!

But the idea of discussions that aren't focused on the Crisis du Jour is great.

I was lucky to have early influences that both challenged and comforted me.
A grandfather who thought the perfect birthday present for an 8-year old girl was a set of drafting tools -- accompanied by a note: "Design your future."
A grandmother who saved rainwater in which to wash my hair and who put dried flowers from her garden into my pillowcase.
A mother who, though not temperamentally cut out for parenting, made it a point to teach me not only the value of words but also, by reading aloud, to associate them with shared happiness.
A father who, without a shred of righteousness, had the steadiest moral gyroscope I have ever encountered;
A brilliant teacher who, in the still sexist 60's, thought teenage girls perfectly capable of reading and writing lengthy papers about philosophy.
Gloria Steinem, who took the time, when I was in my early twenties, to encourage me to shift my career path.
My first husband, whose lessons were valuable in teaching me that I could survive and stand on my own;
My current, off again/on again husband, who has taught me that "never again" is a phrase that can, and sometimes should be replaced by "have we learned enough to try again?"
My son, who survived his parenting, to become a whole person who balances hard work with regular play, and who is kind, by choice, to everyone he meets.
A cornucopia of quirky southern friends and relations who make me laugh and restore my perspective.
A gentle giant of a horse named Everest, who teaches me how to age, and eventually die, without complaint. The dogs and cats who continue to amuse and delight.
I am thankful for all these many gifts that have honed me and helped me, to steer through some tempestuous storms, in both the literal and figurative sense, throughout my adult life.
I am well aware that I have been far luckier than most.

What a bunch of saps. How much you wanna bet a majority of us here commenting on this thread grew up Southern?

That said, I appreciate what you're tryin' to do here - but in my case, you've already squeezed about as much outta me as you're gonna get before the next Fourth of July. My birthday. My favorite time of year outside Christmas. The only time of year I'll ever agree to condescend to your level. And of course you know that condescending to your level is meant to be a joke. Or maybe not. I don't know where it comes from, but that's the phrase I grew up hearing: "Well, I'm not gonna even condescend to answering that one, young man."

Rec'd.

Now do me a favor and rec this:

http://tpmcafe.talkingpointsmemo.com/talk/2008/07/the-prop-8-atm-a-christmas-car.php

Because I wouldn't want you to think that I'm here for anything else other than to pimp my own posts. Because I've come a long ways since playin' in the marching band, and Lord knows I'd already decided back then that it was gonna be all about me once I'd made it through that ordeal with my manhood intact.

Happy 4th!