My dad’s not here, but he’s watching in heaven.
Dad taught me everything I know. Unfortunately, he didn’t teach me everything he knows.
I was born in Orange County – in Santa Ana. My dad is from California. I was raised on the East Coast. My first two years were in California, but I claim East Coast. I’m sorry, I don’t rep California.
I watched my mom and dad build everything that matters – a family, a home and a good name.
I am blessed to have Mom and Dad.
My parents couldn’t give me a whole lot of financial support, but they gave me good genes. My dad is a handsome son-of-a-gun, and my mom is beautiful. And I’ve definitely been the lucky recipient. So, thank you, Mom and Dad.
Dad, wherever you are, you are gone but you will never be forgotten.
I had that whole banter with the police. My mates used to make up raps about Dad being a policeman, it’s hilarious.
My dad is the most humble man on the planet.
In 1881, my dad’s grandparents, who were Norwegian farmers, immigrated to the United States – the same year my great grandfather from Laguna Pueblo was put on a train to Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania.
My dad used to have an expression – ‘It is the lucky person who gets up in the morning, puts both feet on the floor, knows what they are about to do, and thinks it still matters.’
My mom was a nurse, and my dad worked in the Health Ministry as a civil servant. When I was 6 years old, my dad got a job at the Sri Lankan High Commission in Canada, so we moved there.
My mom and dad gave their kids the greatest gift of all – the gift of unconditional love. They cared deeply about who we would be, and much less about what we would do.
I speak a little bit of Italian, yeah. I understand more than I speak. I speak more of a dialect; my mum’s from Naples and my dad’s from Sicily, so it comes out little a bit of a cocktail of the Italian language.
My dad has given me the best gift anyone has ever given me. He gave me wings to fly.
Don’t force your kids into sports. I never was. To this day, my dad has never asked me to go play golf. I ask him. It’s the child’s desire to play that matters, not the parent’s desire to have the child play. Fun. Keep it fun.
My Mom and Dad always told me to not act on emotion, act on what is real. When you’re mad don’t do something wrong because you’re mad.
I have great genes. Thank you to my mom and dad for that one.
My dad was a civil servant, and my mum was a secretary.
Jim Swan was my father, but Reg Barnes was my dad.
My father grew up in Levittown, L.I., in the first tract housing built for G.I.’s. His dad had stormed the beaches of Omaha and died when my father was very young. My dad had to raise himself, pretty much.
I talk about my dad and the American dream, and I just want to say to Americans how fascinated we are by America. We would love Americans to look at the rest of the world that way sometimes.
My dad was a man of integrity who taught me to always do the right thing even when nobody is watching. He ran a trucking company, and watching how he operated his business instilled a drive and work ethic that stuck with me.
My dad’s name is Robert Stafford. His music name is R. L. Stafford; he makes gospel music.
We all have experiences in our lives that change us, and we all learn from people, like my dad, but at the end of the day, it’s only us. And we’re only responsible to make ourselves happy.
