They looked so at home: a father and his son, hand in soft hand, floating through the wide aisles of South Coast Plaza. And they looked so at home with each other too: both in fat, marshmallow tennis shoes, floppy jeans tangling at their ankles, hoodies bunching at their shoulders and a long strip of T-shirt showing over their belts. The father wore some jewelry, a lumpy silver watch; otherwise, one was an exact duplicate of the other. A father and son might have matched this well 50 years ago, but they would have worn jackets and ties. This was a new kind of dad. He dressed down to his kids—or dressed the same way he had dressed since he was a kid—and maybe he liked video games and junk food and cartoons too. Although he was legally an adult, inside his head he was partly still a kid—more a kid than his father or grandfather ever could have been. He was grown, but maybe not grown up. He was what we will... More >>>