“Every time I try to talk to you, it’s just blank!” Dad and I are in the car, in Virginia, eighth grade. “You say a few words if I ask you a direct question and that’s it!” He started off being mad about one thing and now he’s going off on a completely different subject. And the yelling shuts me down even more. I say, “Sorry.” Then he apologizes with an angry voice about not being around when I was growing up. But what good will this do? Half the time he can’t hear me because he’s nearly deaf from not wearing ear protection on the flight line. The rest of the time I’m afraid I might set him off. He does’t understand subtleties or irony in conversation. I just listen to the sound of the air conditioning and wait for him to stop yelling, which is not the best way to quiet him down, but I don’t feel like addressing his problems today.