I'm going to forego the traditional September 11th remembrances and wish my Father a happy birthday today.

I won't reveal his age exactly, other than say that yesterday he was Jonathan Papelbon and in two years he'll be Clay Buchholz. You do the math.

Anyway my Dad is a great guy, for those of you who don't know him. He has infinite patience, literally - he taught Middle School Science for 30-something years. I substitute taught Middle School Science this spring and after thirty minutes I was at the end of my rope! I don't know how he did it.

In all honesty though, over the past year in my newly-married life I can't tell you how many times I've found myself doing something in the same way that my Dad would. Subconsciously copying the way that he's a husband, emulating his husband-atude, if you will.

I guess it makes sense, I'm new at being a husband, and my my dad possess the qualities that I would like to have as a husband, so I'm just wholesale ripping him off.

It's tough, I'm trying to think of specific reasons and examples to support my position (yes, I learned the writing thing from my English teacher Mom, but we'll talk about her on October 18th) but I'm not coming up with much. I guess the first time I noticed was last summer, right around the wedding. Liz and I were staying at my parents' house where I grew up, while my folks were up at our cottage on the lake. We were coming home from somewhere (probably shopping for the wedding) and I did this jog-shuffle up the stairs to the house, the exact same jog-shuffle that my Dad does.

It sounds silly, I know, but it was a truthful moment of revelation.

It's not just that, though. There are tons of little things, cooking in the kitchen, the way that we talk to each other - every week there are a couple of times when I either consciously or subconsciously where I find myself mimicking my Dad.

So hopefully he'll be flattered with all of this sincere imitation.

Happy Birthday Dad!