About thirteen years ago I had the strangest dream I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a few. I thought, “What the hell did that mean?” For the first time in my life, at age sixty, I wondered who my biological father was. I called my sister and asked if she would be willing to do a genetic test. She said yes, and we both swabbed our mouths and sent our samples to a lab in Texas. The results came back: the greatest likelihood was that we had different fathers. I began to search for my biological father. A few years after that I found this picture in a box of old family photos. I wrote this song to the man in the picture. I continue my search.