I hate to brag, but I seriously doubt that you can top the gift I gave my day for Father’s Day. More on that later. I understand that it is really hard to pick out a gift for dear ole dad. At a certain point, our fathers have everything they want or need. And, even if they don’t, they aren’t so great at letting us know what’s on their minds.
 

 
How many pairs of socks or ties can you give a man? Manhattan closets are not big enough to hold an endless supply of accessories. And, giving that professional shave goes stale after year five. (Note, if you are thinking about getting one for your dad, I recommend The Art of Shaving on Madison Avenue.) There are only so many golf clubs or lessons you can buy your dad before you’re insulting his golf game.
 
In this post Occupy Wall Street culture, material things are passé. Gifts should come from the heart and mean something. And, mine does. When I started my show four years ago, it included full frontal nudity. Yes, my own. Now, my father — a well regarded businessman and amateur magician — loved every part of my show, except that. The last time he saw me nude I was in diapers. So, dad, I’m happy to announce that my show is no longer Rated R; it’s PG-13. It’s been PG-13 for awhile so come back and see Ted Greenberg’s The Complete Performer, dad. The show is ready for your repeat viewing.

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