My dad, Isaac, is a lawyer. I want him to retire but he has not yet! He works too hard and too much, that's my opinion. He is extremely into sports, especially baseball. He likes to play basketball and jogs to keep in shape, but his main exercise is eating.

I grew up playing sports with him. He encouraged us to run in races, play in little leagues, and we often spent the weekends playing tennis, basketball and baseball with him.

Despite his age, we still have good competitions with him in tennis and basketball when we play one-on-one. I think this is quite impressive.

He helped us with our math homework when we grew up, and attended many of our sports events.

I like to hear his opinions on what's going on in the world. He doesn't read many books but frequently reads the New York Times.

OK, time to add life to this description, it's only fair to his being after all.

He doesn't back away from a fight. He's a tough guy, I would say.

Once, we were in a bad neighborhood. He dropped a bag of subway tokens and a guy walking behind him picked it up, and was like, "Look what I found!" My dad said, "No, that's mine!" The guy ran, and then my dad chased him for ten minutes, leaving me and my brother alone in ghettoville. I don't think he caught the guy though. But he didn't hesitate in going after him.

Another time there's this big guy in a subway car with my dad, brother and me. Just the four of us, and it was late at night. The guy was wearing these shiny white shoes, that looked new. They may have even had the tag on them, as that was the style during the 80s. In any case, he was reading a boxing magazine. Then he said to my dad, "You stepped on my shoes." And my dad said he didn't. The guy said he best admit what he did, "Or else." So my witty dad said, "Or else what?" I forget how this ended, but no one got hurt.

In South Philadelphia, a few of us were in the car, and my friend parked the car close to the car in front of ours. The car happened to belong to a guy sitting right by where we parked, and he claimed our car touched his. My dad said no it didn't. There was no damage, all that was necessary was to say sorry, but it was about what was right and wrong, and these two 50-year-olds got in each other's faces. Then the guy went in his house and came out with a bat, and my dad was still in his face saying we didn't touch his car.

At a Yankee game, when I was about five-years-old, I spit over a railing and did not move my head. So this guy looked up and saw me and came up to our seats to fight. But my dad protected me.

He does not take Novocain at the dentist.

I think you get the point.

Oh, he also ran three marathons!