but I swear it was in self defense

On March 29th, I went to hear The Wailers as part of the Savannah Music Festival. I danced for more than an hour! They had everyone get up for their fourth song and most of us STAYED up, too. Fabulous concert! Especially the second hour, when they concentrated on their hits, rather than the songs on their latest album. One of those hits was "I Shot the Sheriff".
Every time I hear "I Shot the Sheriff", I recall my father. He and I were riding in the car together, maybe going to Augusta, I don't recall our destination. I was in the early years of my stint in the Navy, I think. Those details are bit fuzzy.
But I definitely recall that it was a warm, blue-sky day and the windows of the car were wide open. Daddy's dark, wavy hair was caught in the breeze of our passage, his left arm atop the bottom lip of the open window. And he was enthusiastically singing along with Eric Clapton on the radio. What a fabulous moment, crystallized in the deep folds of my brain, blue sky, blowing hair, and a deep sense of contentment.
I miss that with him.
I miss him.
He would have been 77 today.
Happy birthday, Daddy.