Clanging the dishes clinking the silverware at 6 a.m. my father let the world know life was going on after all. Fresh from the long silence of the night's withdrawal here was one who was alive - ready for challenge! The cheerful clatter the casual cacophony careened up the stairs mingled with our morning dreams urging us to rise and shine like those pots and pans he was banging about. Thirty years later still carrying on the tradition I throw the cat's dishes on the floor bang the pans, rattle the dishes. The others in our five-room apartment do not fully appreciate my morning cheer. They even mumble syllables about quiet, about consideration.... But I keep remembering Dad and the cheerful sense of continuity that comforting sound of someone up ahead of you preparing the way.