Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there, and to every man who makes a difference in someone’s life. The above photo is my dad taking me (on the left) and my brother Gary to the rodeo in Fort Worth, Texas, in 1968.
Below is an excerpt from my very first post on The Randy Report back in 2011. I had no idea what I was going to write about.
As my hands moved over the keyboard, it became clear I had something to say about my father who had been gone for a little over a year. Continue reading “Happy Father’s Day 2026”
Me (left) with my dad, Gene Slovacek, and my brother, Gary (right) Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there, and to every man who makes a difference in someone’s life, and teaches people to have no fear. Continue reading “Happy Father’s Day 2022”
Me (left) with my dad, Gene Slovacek, and my brother, Gary (right) Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. To every man who makes a difference in someone’s life, and teaches people to have no fear. Below is an excerpt of my very first post on The Randy Report back in 2011. I had no idea what I was going to write about. As I wrote, it became clear I had something to say about my father who had passed away a little over a year before I wrote this. I thought this might be appropriate to re-post on Father’s Day.
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My father loved to travel and loved adventure. Before he died at the age of 91, he had traveled everywhere in the world several times over. Sometimes by himself, meeting new friends along the way. Talk about no fear. My mother had passed away when I was five, so my father was THE grown up figure in my life. He was very confident, and throughout childhood I always knew he loved me. But growing up, I wanted his approval. I wanted him to be proud of me. To not only love me, but see me attempt something and hear him say “good job.” When I was very young my father took my brother and I to Mexico for a vacation. For me, as a 7 year old, Mexico was a very different world. Other than a swimming pool at a hotel, I was scared of a lot. At one point we were on a beach and my father signed my 9 year old brother Gary up to go para-sailing. They strapped Gary into the harness, and up and away he went. It didn’t seem like adventure to me so much as just plain frightening. When the time came for the ride to end, my brother was so small and light in weight and the wind was so strong, it was difficult to get him down to the ground. It took ten minutes for the “technicians” to get him down. My father turned to me and said “you’re next” and I went running away, crying. Scared to death. That was Mexico to me for a long, long time. Fast forward to two years ago. I was on vacation in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, with friends of mine and we all decided to go zip lining through the jungle. I couldn’t wait. Loved it. Taking a zip line hundreds of feet above the jungle floor was beyond exhilarating. The guides asked my name at the start of the day and I gave myself a nickname “Bruno” just to be funny and make my friends laugh. All day long the guides cheered “Bruno” on. It was a great day. No fear in sight and it didn’t even occur to me fear should even be in the equation. The next morning, while still in Mexico, I got the call my 91 year old father had passed away in his sleep of natural causes. I flew from PV to Texas to handle the funeral and burial details. In getting ready to speak at my father’s funeral – a daunting and important “one shot moment” at expressing something that needed to be profound – I searched to find the best and most “right” thing to say about this world & life traveler who never showed fear. And suddenly it came to me the memory of that 7 year old boy who was so afraid of everything in life, and now – having just been in Mexico for the first time since the frightening age of 7, and without thinking twice – I was the one zooming through the canopy of the jungle thrilled at the adventure of it all. I suddenly sensed an amazing closing of a circle and passing of a torch. I think one of our parent’s greatest responsibilities is to prepare us, consciously and subconsciously, to face life. To not be afraid. Standing next to my father’s casket, in a moment of clarity I turned and said to my father and his memory, “Good job.” That story probably says something about me and my life. I hope people find this blog, and read and react. Feel free. No fear.
L-R Me with my dad, Gene Slovacek, and brother Gary, heading to the rodeo in Fort Worth, TX Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. To every man who makes a difference in someone’s life, and inspires people to have no fear. The essay below appeared as my very first post on The Randy Report. As I sat down at my laptop, I had no idea what I was going to write. But it soon became clear I had something to say about my father who had passed away a little over a year before I wrote this. This seems appropriate to re-post on Father’s Day.
Growing up in Texas, I was pretty afraid of a lot of the world. Afraid to express myself, afraid I wouldn’t be liked, afraid I wouldn’t get where I wanted to go in life. I went to Syracuse University for college – a blinding change of weather, tone, and scenery. The adventure opened up my world as I worked through four freezing cold years, spent over $40K on tuition and walked away with a piece of paper saying that I had done something. I moved to New York City with my best friend Carlye to pursue dreams of being on Broadway, and eventually got there after serving time in many National touring companies of those Broadway shows I dreamed of being a part of. In those years I came to deal with the fact that I was gay, fell out of the closet, fell in love with my husband Michael, moved out west, got married, and began a new chapter. You’ll be hearing much more about Carlye and Michael in future posts. Somewhere along the way, I realized life had taught me a lot about fear and it’s uselessness. I once heard the phrase “I’m not afraid of anything” and I really liked how that sounded. I try to honor that. Even if a little fear creeps into a life moment, I chalk it up to reminding me I’m alive. As a cancer survivor, I like the “alive” part. But most of the time, I just try to keep moving forward. I’m not worried about what people think of me anymore, or how people will react to my opinions. I think it’s the American Way to live and let live, to honor our differences and realize that all our flavors create the best country in the world. I have no time for people who have issues with anyone who is “different.” Different is good. And if you believe that, you have to take it to the bank. Live it. So skin color, hair color, religion or lack thereof, sexual orientation, age, blah blah blah…. it all makes life interesting and spicy. At least to me.
Me with my dad in 2006
Short story: My father loved to travel and loved adventure. Before he died at the age of 91, he had traveled everywhere in the world several times over. Sometimes by himself, meeting new friends along the way. Talk about no fear. My mother had passed away when I was five, so my father was THE grown-up figure in my life. He was very confident, and throughout childhood, I always knew he loved me. But growing up, I wanted his approval. I wanted him to be proud of me. To not only love me but see me attempt something and hear him say “good job.” When I was very young my father took my brother and me to Mexico for a vacation. For me as a 7-year-old, Mexico was a very different world. Other than a swimming pool at a hotel, I was scared of a lot. At one point we were on a beach and my father signed up my 9-year-old brother Gary to go para-sailing. They strapped Gary into the harness, and up and away he went. It didn’t seem like an adventure to me so much as just plain frightening. When the time came for the ride to end, my brother was so small and light in weight and the wind was so strong, it was difficult to get him down to the ground. It took ten minutes for the “technicians” to get him down. My father turned to me and said “you’re next” and I went running away, crying. Scared to death. That was Mexico to me for a long, long time. Fast forward to two years ago. I was on vacation in Mexico with friends of mine, and we all decided to go zip lining through the jungle near Puerto Vallarta. I couldn’t wait. Loved it. Taking a zip line hundreds of feet above the jungle floor was beyond exhilarating. The guides asked my name at the start of the day and I gave myself the nickname “Bruno” just to be funny and make my friends laugh. All-day long the guides cheered “Bruno” on. It was a great day. No fear in sight and it didn’t even occur to me fear should even be in the equation. The next morning, while still in Mexico, I got the call my 91-year-old father had passed away in his sleep of natural causes. I, of course, flew from PV to Texas to handle the funeral and burial details. In preparing to speak at my father’s funeral – a daunting and important “one-shot moment” at expressing something that you hope will be profound – I searched to find the best and most “right” thing to say about this world & life traveler who never showed fear. And suddenly, the memory of that 7-year-old boy who was so afraid of everything in life. Having just been in Mexico for the first time since that frightening childhood experience, without thinking twice I was the one zooming through the canopy of the jungle, thrilled at the adventure of it all. And I realized the unconscious confidence he’d inspired in me to travel across the country to attend college, then move to New York City to follow my dreams, and then travel the world as he had. I suddenly sensed the closing of a circle, the passing of a torch. One of our parent’s greatest responsibilities is to prepare us, consciously or subconsciously, to face life. To not be afraid. Standing next to my father’s casket, in a moment of clarity, I turned and said to my father and his memory – “Good job.” That story probably says something about me and my life. I hope people find this blog, and read and react. Feel free. No fear.
My dad, Gene Slovacek, with me (L) and brother Gary (R) Clearly we were going to the rodeo 🙂
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there.
To every man who makes a difference in someone’s life, and teaches people to have no fear.
This appeared as my very first post on The Randy Report. I had no idea what I was going to write about. As I wrote, it became clear I had something to say about my father who had passed away a little over a year before I wrote this.
I thought this might be appropriate to re-post on Father’s Day.
************************************************
Growing up in Texas, I was pretty afraid of a lot of the world. Afraid to express myself, afraid I wouldn’t be liked, afraid I wouldn’t get where I wanted to go. I went to Syracuse University for college – blinding change of temperature, tone and scenery. Opened up my world a bit as a got through four freezing cold years, spent over $40K and walked away with a piece of paper saying that I had done something.
I moved to NYC with my best friend Carlye to pursue dreams of being on Broadway, and eventually got there after serving time in many National touring companies of those Broadway shows I dreamed of being a part of.
In those years I came to deal with the fact that I was gay, fell out of the closet, fell in love with my husband Michael, moved out west, got married and began a new chapter. You’ll be hearing much more about Carlye and Michael in future posts.
Somewhere along the way I realized life had taught me a lot about fear and it’s uselessness. I once heard the phrase “I’m not afraid of anything” and I really liked how that sounded. I try to honor that. Even if a little fear creeps into a life moment, I chalk it up to reminding me I’m alive – as a cancer survivor I like the “alive” part. But most of the time, I just try to keep moving forward.
I’m not so worried about what people think of me anymore, or what people will think of how I express my thoughts. I think it’s the American Way to live and let live, to honor our differences and realize that all our flavors create the best country in the world. I have no time for people who have issues with anyone who is “different.” Different is good. And if you believe that, you have to take it to the bank. Live it. So skin color, hair color, religion or lack thereof, sexual orientation, age, blah blah blah…. it all makes life interesting and spicy. At least to me.
Short story: My father loved to travel and loved adventure. Before he died at the age of 91, he had traveled everywhere in the world several times over. Sometimes by himself, meeting new friends along the way. Talk about no fear.
My mother had passed away when I was five, so my father was THE grown up figure in my life. He was very confident, and throughout childhood I always knew he loved me. But growing up, I wanted his approval. I wanted him to be proud of me. To not only love me, but see me attempt something and hear him say “good job.”
When I was very young my father took my brother and me to Mexico for a vacation. For me as a 7 year old, Mexico was a very different world. Other than a swimming pool at a hotel, I was scared of a lot. At one point we were on a beach and my father signed my 9 year old brother Gary up to go para-sailing. They strapped Gary into the harness, and up and away he went. It didn’t seem like adventure to me so much as just plain frightening. When the time came for the ride to end, my brother was so small and light in weight and the wind was so strong, it was difficult to get him down to the ground. It took ten minutes for the “technicians” to get him down. My father turned to me and said “you’re next” and I went running away, crying. Scared to death. That was Mexico to me for a long, long time.
Fast forward to two years ago. I was on vacation with friends of mine and we all decided to go zip lining through the jungle near Puerto Vallarta. I couldn’t wait. Loved it. Taking a zip line hundreds of feet above the jungle floor was beyond exhilarating. The guides asked my name at the start of the day and I gave myself a nickname “Bruno” just to be funny and make my friends laugh. All day long the guides cheered “Bruno” on. It was a great day. No fear in sight and it didn’t even occur to me fear should even be in the equation.
The next morning, while still in Mexico, I got the call my 91 year old father had passed away in his sleep of natural causes. I flew from PV to Texas to handle the funeral and burial details. In getting ready to speak at my father’s funeral – a daunting and important “one shot moment” at expressing something that needed to be profound – I searched to find the best and most “right” thing to say about this world & life traveler who never showed fear.
And suddenly it came to me the memory of that 7 year old boy who was so afraid of everything in life, and now – having just been in Mexico for the first time since the frightening age of 7, and without thinking twice – I was the one zooming through the canopy of the jungle thrilled at the adventure of it all. I suddenly sensed an amazing closing of a circle and passing of a torch. I think one of our parent’s greatest responsibilities is to prepare us, consciously and subconsciously, to face life. To not be afraid.
Standing next to my father’s casket, in a moment of clarity I turned and said to my father and his memory – “good job.”
That story probably says something about me and my life.
Bruno in the middle of it all (2003) playing dad with the pups as mama Sabrina looks on
I would be seriously remiss to not include “super daddy-dog” Bruno in the Father’s Day wishes.
From the day the puppies were born, he’s been a great dad. He was serious “jungle gym dad” from the time they could play, as you can see from the pic above. Click either pic to view larger.
Happy Father’s Day Bruno! Thank you for helping bring the puppies to us!
Bruno babysitting so Sabrina could get some quiet time after having the puppies
Ricky Martin, arguably one of the sexiest dads in the world, pens this touching open letter to his sons as part of Time’s “Letters From Dads” series set to be released tomorrow on Father’s Day.
“To Matteo and Valentino,
From the first moment you were in my arms, I have told you how incredibly grateful, honored and blessed I am to be your father. But I don’t believe I ever told you how you changed my life.
For years, the one thing always clear in my heart was that I wanted to be a father. I dreamed of it often and found great strength and inspiration from the possibility.
When this dream became a reality, you can’t imagine the joy and emotions that filled me. I was anxiously awaiting your arrival, counting the days, the hours, the minutes until your birth. I must have read every book out there about parenting, preparing myself for your arrival. Then, finally, the first time I held you in my arms, the world stopped for me.
The most beautiful and indescribable feeling took over. I felt the purest form of love for the first time in my life. You were finally with me, and I knew I was the luckiest and happiest man in the world!
Since that first moment, my journey with you two has been filled with joy and adventure. We have been traveling the world together since you were just two years old. We learn new things everyday, and I am amazed by anything and everything you do. You make me a better person and inspire me to try new things such as write my first children’s book.
Above all, my beautiful sons, your love gave me the strength to live an honest life. A life of courage and transparency, which fills me with great pride and peace. What an amazing gift you have given me, and I’m forever thankful to you.
If there is anything I want you to live with, aside from knowing that you are unconditionally loved and adored by me and our family and friends, it is that you can be YOURSELF. Don’t ever let anyone or anything make you feel like you can’t be your true self.
Whatever you decide to be or do, I will always be by your side. Please take strength and comfort in that knowledge and never forget it.
Fast forward to two years ago. I was on vacation in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, with friends of mine and we all decided to go zip lining through the jungle. I couldn’t wait. Loved it. Taking a zip line hundreds of feet above the jungle floor was beyond exhilarating. The guides asked my name at the start of the day and I gave myself a nickname “Bruno” just to be funny and make my friends laugh. All day long the guides cheered “Bruno” on. It was a great day. No fear in sight and it didn’t even occur to me fear should even be in the equation. The next morning, while still in Mexico, I got the call my 91 year old father had passed away in his sleep of natural causes. I flew from PV to Texas to handle the funeral and burial details. In getting ready to speak at my father’s funeral – a daunting and important “one shot moment” at expressing something that needed to be profound – I searched to find the best and most “right” thing to say about this world & life traveler who never showed fear. And suddenly it came to me the memory of that 7 year old boy who was so afraid of everything in life, and now – having just been in Mexico for the first time since the frightening age of 7, and without thinking twice – I was the one zooming through the canopy of the jungle thrilled at the adventure of it all. I suddenly sensed an amazing closing of a circle and passing of a torch. I think one of our parent’s greatest responsibilities is to prepare us, consciously and subconsciously, to face life. To not be afraid. Standing next to my father’s casket, in a moment of clarity I turned and said to my father and his memory, “Good job.” That story probably says something about me and my life. I hope people find this blog, and read and react. Feel free. No fear.
