<Tab/>You can pick him out of a crowd. At Rotary Club meetings, in a room full of men wearing impeccably-tailored suits, my father is the guy in the Hawaiian shirt. For more than twenty years, Dad wore an Army uniform to work. Week-ends and holidays were his only days to make a fashions statement. When he retired, my father ditched the
BDU's and filled his closet with thirty-seven Hawaiian shirts for all occasions: Hawaiian Santa in a pink convertible; Easter Bunny Santa; Beer-Barrel Hawaii... You get the idea. My mother does put her foot down when it comes to church and…
