To my father: For being upgraded to full professor at Stanford, despite not actually (at least as far as I can tell) doing any teaching or research.

To my mother: For, this past weekend, attaining her PhD, despite already having amassed so much experience in the area that other students in the same program were citing her papers as seminal work in the field.

To my brother: For, unexpectedly, getting a job here in New York for the summer (having gone in to speak with a prominent real estate developer in the city, just to pick his brain about the industry, and being told, “you’re a cocky little bastard. Want to work here?”), and for very quickly putting a life (apartment, etc.) in place here in New York, even if, in the process, he lost his cell phone, and also got really drunk at Otis, the bar around my corner, culminating in him baring his ass cheeks on request of a bachelorette party also drinking heavily at the same bar.

To my self: For finally being able to climb the Elias route on Rat Rock in Central Park, even if I did get stuck partway up, and while pausing to regroup and chalk my hands, have a six year old wearing Spiderman face paint run up behind me yelling, “hey, mister, do you need help? I can save you, I’m Spiderman!”