Well, after a long bout with cancer, my dad, Carl Elliott, passed away today. He was 68 years old.
He was technically my step dad, so I can't say that I got my stunning good looks from him, or my glorious bald spot, but he raised me since I was five and over the course of my life I think I ended up with his demeanor. He was easy-going, friendly, and never got too worked up over anything, which I think are the best parts of me as well.
As a comedy writer, it's tough to try and strike the right chord between somber and funny. I have tap-danced around that line a lot over the past few weeks, even around my dad. He always laughed at my jokes, which is why I loved him.
And for those of you that are into inside jokes, here are two:
One is, my mom made meatloaf for dinner last night.
Two is, it was raining today at the time of my father's passing.
And you know what they say . . .