|Blow by David McKenna and Nick Cassavetes|
|Age (range):||18 - 55|
George Jung: Hello, Dad. Y'know, I remember a lifetime ago I was about three and a half feet tall, weighing only sixty pounds, but every inch your son. Those Saturday mornings, going to work with my dad and we'd pile into that big, green truck. I thought that truck was the... was the biggest truck in the universe, Pop. I remember how important the job we did was. How, if it weren't for us, people would freeze to death. I thought you were the strongest man in the world. Remember those home movies, when Mom would dress up like Loretta Young? Ice creams, football games, playing hook the tuna, the day I left for California only to come home with the FBI chasing me, that FBI Agent Trout... When he had to get on his knees to put my boots on, you said, "That's where you belong, you sonofab!*ch, puttin on Georgie's boots." That was a good one, Dad. That was really something. You remember that? And that time you told me that money wasn't real? Well, old man, I'm 42 years old and I've finally realized what you were trying to tell me too many years ago. I finally understand. You're the best, Dad. I just wish I could've done more for you. Wish we had more time. Anyway, may the wind always be at your back, and the sun always upon your face, and the winds of destiny to carry you aloft, to dance with the stars. I love you, Dad. Love, George.