My father was very reticent, but also en excellent pianist. He was for all my childhood and young adult years a church choral director and organist. (He chose the longest post, in part, for the 'instrument,' a 80 year old Austin organ.) I sang in his choirs and appreciated his talent.

I was drafted '69 to '71. He never said much about it. In church my first week back the greetings from members were interrupted by the postlude, the magnificent Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor. I went and stood by him as he played the piece. There was an ancient widow in the church, whose husband had also been an organist, who would to come by to listen to him practice. She told me afterward that he'd been working on the Bach for weeks perfecting it for my homecoming.

My own father has been declining in health for the past couple of years. He laid the foundation for my musical tastes with his love of the Beatles and Bob Dylan, and in doing so paved the way for my first career as a professional musician. He simultaneously fed me Dickens, Vonnegut and Salinger, and the subsequent discussions we had undoubtedly led to my second career as an attorney. As he lives 1800 miles away, with the exception of short trips to see him every few months, our communication is limited to telephone conversations. When we are not talking about literature or tennis, we are talking about popular music. Thanks for this moving segment, Ed Zimmerman and Studio 360, especially on Father's Day.

Many people have been sharing with me their experiences with or memories of time with dad. I have been so pleased to see how the piece on my dad and his opera obsession has triggered fond memories for many. Here's the text of a note I received. The sender wanted to remain anonymous but was happy to share his experience with me (and then, by confirming email, with all of you). Thanks. Ed -- do keep these coming!
"Thanks Ed for sharing the remembrances. What opera is to you in terms of remembering your Dad, certain pop songs are to me. My Dad never bought a record while I knew him, but loved singing along to AM radio (remember when they used to play music on AM?) I can't hear Rikki Don't Lose That Number without being brought back to my early high school years, sitting next to my Dad while he drove his pickup truck to a job site or home, the radio on, and him singing along. He had no favorite artists, just songs he liked. They weren't always songs I thought were any good, and he often botched the lyrics or made them up, but it was one small area in his life where for brief moments of time he acted passionately about something frivolous (in the sense of something done for pure enjoyment, like your wine and my camera). A small pleasure for him in short windows of time each day while driving. Like many of his generation, he never had the time or knew how to develop interests in anything other than work and family. How different we baby boomers/post-boomers have turned out. Anyway, your posts triggered fond memories for me of my Dad, and brightened my day. Thanks a bunch."

Of all the passions and interests my father has shared with me, the most treasured to me would have to be his enthusiasm for Star Trek: The Next Generation. It's one of the few shows I can really remember my parents and brothers and I all sitting down to watch as a family (not always my mom), despite the fact that I was barely nine years old when the series ended. Both bald, of average height and build, with a calm, reflective, curious, intelligent, self-assured demeanor, I have always loosely associated my father with Captain Picard. But it's not only that my dad reinforced these character traits, the experience of watching the show with him was totally valuable as well. To be clear, although we are ardent fans of the series, we are definitely not Trekkies (no conventions, collectibles, or even halloween costumes). Following my dad's example, we totally took the campy, cornball elements of each episode in stride; laughing at what was unintentionally humorous or otherwise and learning not to take life too seriously. I think he also bestowed on us some kind of implicit understanding that beneath the adventures, explosions, and science fiction tropes, there were sometimes serious questions about life, choices, and morality--issues that it is right to question and struggle over. I know that we'll always have Star Trek, and it's been great to see how my brothers and I have made similar fans of our significant others while laying the foundation for them to have a relationship with our dad, too. It's no wonder that when my older brother came out to the family, the second question I asked him was whether or not his boyfriend liked Star Trek! I'm so grateful that I've had the chance to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, and to boldly go where no one has gone before with my father in the captain's chair!

My Dad also liked Begin the Beguine and imparted in me a great love of Cole Porter, whose witty lyrics and catchy melodies are often heard in our home. It helps that my wife has been a huge Ella Fitzgerald fan for years so we always overlap on the magic that issues from our speakers when Ella or Louie perform Cole Porter, but that song always reminds me of my Dad as well. Pete Townshend did a fun version (and it beats the Joe Jackson take on the song), which is worth hearing. Thanks for listening to the spot on today's show. It means a great deal to me and to my family to have been able to share it!
You can also check out the blog post I wrote that relates to the piece Studio360 aired today. The post appears at: http://bit.ly/EMZBlogJellinekDad
Thanks
@EdGrapeNutZimm

My Dad loved the song, Begin the Beguine. I didn't really "get it" as a kid in the '50s, when big band music had already slipped below the cultural horizon. But it seems to me now that Artie Shaw and his band turned a lugubrious self-conscious too-clever-by-a-half (weren't they all!)vanity by Cole Porter, a song that is almost always embarassing when someone tries to actually sing it, into an instrumental tour-de-force that remains one of the masterworks of 20th Century popular art. Dad's gone 12 years now, but hearing it always makes me think of him.

My Dad and I share geek. He was the one who showed me magnificent, inapropriate, hilarious science fiction films when i was young. From Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, Flash Gordon, Young Frankenstein, Star Trek in every form possible, to the modern Sci Fi adventures of Battlestar Galactica, geek is what holds our family together. It is also the amazing bond we share with my half-sister, who was the one who actually appriciated the DVD collection I started building for him every gift giving holiday. This year I will be giving him the collected Original Star Trek movies so that he can once again share his inner geek with another daughter. What builds a more lasting father daughter bond than outer space adventures? Nothing?