A bond forged by
loss By Tim Coriden
Let me start off by stating that my father-inlaw, Larry, and I have a good relationship. We don’t pal around together, but we enjoy each other’s company during our visits. I have been fortunate in that regard, because we have vastly different backgrounds. Larry was one of three boys, raised in a Jewish household on the east side of Cleveland. He has a master’s degree in Asian studies and was at one time, proficient in speaking Mandarin. He is the father to two and the grandfather to three. Larry and my mother-in-law have dedicated more than 30 years of their lives to being professional woodcarvers and artists. Their woodcarvings have been placed on the White House Christmas tree, used in movies and collected by avid followers across the nation. Larry is a hawkish fiscal conservative, in that he buys everything in cash, frowns on using credit and has no use for frills. On the flip side, he is fairly left-winged socially and outspoken about his beliefs. In fact, “outspoken” is likely the adjective most of his acquaintances would use to describe him. Truthfully, Larry is eerily similar to Larry David’s portrayal of himself in the HBO comedy, “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” Many times, I have quipped to my wife that Larry and I share almost nothing in common. But I know that to be untrue. Besides being married to his daughter, and our sons being his first two grandchildren, we share a painful affinity for small-market sports franchises.
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Larry’s teams being the three Cleveland professional sports franchises: Browns, Indians and Cavaliers. Where I, on the other hand, cheer for the two Indianapolis professional sports franchises, Pacers and Colts, as well as the Cincinnati Reds. SHE m a g a z i n e • j u n e 2 0 1 0