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My childhood was filled with fairy tales, fantasies, and myths. Dad would read to me every night, fantastic stories of magic and adventure. From my bedroom we would travel together to marvelous mysterious places where wishes were granted, dragons were slain, and treasures were found. He taught me how to dream and use my imagination. And when I woke up in the middle of the night, terrified from a nightmare, he always knew just what to say to lay the demons to rest.
As I grew older, I learned a secret about my father that I want to share with you. I discovered that he, like the characters in fairy tales, also had magical powers. You see, my father was a wizard. My dad could see things that other people couldn't. Of course I don't mean that he had X-Ray Vision like superman, or saw ghosts like the little boy in “The Sixth Sense,” but the world seemed to open up for him and reveal its innermost secrets to his analytical gaze. This was a wonderful treat for me, of course, as one of his sons, for although I could never at first appreciate what he was looking at, once he described it to me, everything suddenly became crystal clear. So clear, in fact, that not only could I not imagine how I failed to see it that way in the first place, but I could no longer see it any other way. My father could change the world with only a few words.
Once I discovered my father's power, I then had to uncover its source, master it, and claim my birthright. Unfortunately, I did not know where to begin but I did know that the key lay somewhere in his library, among all of those books and records, and so I started to read, to listen, and to learn. My father, having taught me how to dream, then taught me how to think and to hear.