I was born on the twenty-second birthday of my father, Jerome Paul Dotsey.  He was born on March 4, 1956 and I was born on March 4, 1978.  If you put all those numbers together you 3-4-5-6-7-8, which is a ridiculously cool coincidence.  I really wanted to have a kid on our birthday in 2009, but that’s not happening now.  I can still aim for 2012 though.

My dad, who goes by Jerry, was the second of five kids born to Andy and Jane Dotsey.  He was born in Newport, Kentucky, but they moved to Lexington, Kentucky when he was still pretty young I believe.

I’ve got a number of good memories with my dad.  I remember going to see several movies with him when I was little.  I remember advice he gave me on relationships back in high school that I wish I’d listened to.  When I turned 21 (and he turned 43) he and a bunch of friends took me out to Thee Doll House then Rumrunners.  I had have him stop the car before we even left Tom Lagrassa’s driveway to head back home.  I remember watching football and basketball games on weekend afternoons in the basement with him and Aunt Robbie, eating cashews or chips and dip.  To this day, those are the best foods to have while watching a game to me.

My parents owned a feed store that I worked at from the time I was thirteen until after I went to college, and in that time I worked quite a bit with my dad.  One thing I really always admired about my dad, and still aspire to be as good about as him, is his ability to talk to anybody.  He was always very friendly with people at the store (and outside of it too, but that’s where I saw it the most) and acted as if he was old friends with them.

My dad was in a serious accident when my mom was pregnant with Andra.  He was on an overpass and hit a patch of ice that sent him into another car.  I remember standing in the kitchen watching my mom on the phone and thinking that if something bad happened to him it was particularly bad for me because of the birthday bond we shared.  Of course I was, what, six, probably seven at the time?

After the September 11 attacks, in all the turmoil that went on with it, my dad was laid off from Nortel and started doing contractor work with Tim Lagrassa.  In between jobs myself, I helped them out a bit with a few jobs to earn some extra money.  It felt good to be able to do things like build porches and renovate barns with him.

Dad told me that when I was really little he was out somewhere with me somewhere and a guy asked him what he wanted me to be when I grew up.  He told the guy he just wanted me to be happy.  So far, I’m living up to that for him.