Sun Jul 18 2021 at 21:53:34 My father died in 1951. I was six years old. We buried him in the San Joaquin Valley National Cemetery in February of 2007. Freud said that no one could be a man until his father had died. Jung said “yes, but that death could take place symbolically,” but that is another story. A year or two latter I told my first lie. To be clear, it was early in 1953. There was a quart bottle of root beer in the refrigerator. Someone had pried off the lid, drank a bit, then put the lid back on thinking no one would notice. There were three suspects. The other two were my