My dad turned 70 this year. We recently had a party at which I gladly gave a speech honoring him. As I did a few months ago for the speech I gave at my brother’s wedding, I am posting the transcript of my speech. I hope you enjoy it.

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Twelve years ago Beatrice met my parents for the first time. Ever since then she has had this habit where every now and then she will say to me, “You’re your father.” Twelve years ago I can tell you, I didn’t like it. I would tell a joke – You’re your father. Or I’d say or do anything and Beatrice would let me know – What you just said is so your father.

At first this was really annoying. But today I can finally embrace it.

In my speech at Daniel and Carolyn’s wedding I offered contrasts between me and Dan. At my parents 40th I offered contrasts between them. Today I have no contrasts. As Beatrice is all too eager to point out, I am my father.

- I am his goofy sense of humor – much to Beatrice’s chagrin.
- I am his romanticism.
- I am his love of food and wine.
- I am his pear shaped body type.
- I am his entrepreneurial spirit.
- I am his passion for work and hobbies, the two of which frequently intertwine.
- I am his desire to help people and make a difference in their lives.
- I am him. I am my father.

And while picking up many of my father’s traits happened without my noticing it at the time, there is one moment from my life that stands out that I definitely noticed.

I was 12 years old and had just finished playing a game of mud football at my best friend’s house. I was quite surprised when instead of my mother coming to pick me up, my father pulled up . . . in his brand new car. There I was caked from head to toe in mud and the moment the car door opened what struck me was new car smell. Well my dad must have seen me hesitate, possibly even caught a look of worry on my face.

He asked me, “What’s wrong?”

I replied, “I’m covered in mud. I don’t want to get your new car dirty.”

He looked at me and shook his head. He said, “Noah, it’s just a car. Get in.”

This moment carried with it many lessons.

- I learned the value of things.
- I learned the value of people.
- I learned about priorities, caring and compassion.
- I learned it’s okay to have a filthy car, a lesson I live by.
- And of course later that day I learned that dad isn’t the one who cleans his car.

Dad you have taught me much. I love you. I am you. Have a very happy 71st year and beyond. L’chaim.