My grandfather was a gardener. I didn’t really see him that much because he lived in Pittsburgh, and I grew up in Las Vegas, later moving to California. Despite that, his essence was always understood – he was a World War II Navy Veteran, and and avid gardener. He was in radar in the Navy. He was on ships. He had a sword hanging in his bedroom that was a bayonet to be attached at the end of a rifle. At the time, I was 11 years old, totally into the Thundercats, and would pretend that I was Lion-O. Picture this – unsheathing his sword, and yelling, “Thunder… Thunder… Thunder!!! THUNDERCATS – HOOOOOOOO!!!” Later in life I took much more interest in his gardening. He was also the quintessential gardener – being “organic” before that was even a thing.