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My dad never really had a "first childhood." Despite his adventures, life in East 93rd Street was pretty brutal. The family never had any money and there were always too many relatives and mouths to feed.

When my Dad got a little older, he was running across country with his brothers, staying in fleabag hotels and traveling in rickety railroad cars in vaudeville.

Often he'd perform for audiences that were happy to laugh at him onstage and happy to discriminate against him offstage. (Not only were he and his brothers lowly actors they were also Jewish at a time when anti-Semitism was the rule, not the exception.)

By the time he settled down with my mom and started raising a family, he was in his fifties and financially secure enough not to have to work every day.

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And so he spent a lot of his time playing with and getting to know his kids. And this became his "second childhood."

My dad was the most child-like adult I've ever known. Not "child-ish" - an unattractive quality that sug