My father was born on December 25th, so ever since we moved to the United States 45 years ago,

his birthday has been a national holiday, and the start of winter break for his kids and then grandkids.

Everyone gathers at his house in Cape Cod.

Everyone, not just the birthday man, gets gifts.

Lena and Alan used to come, of course, but now it's Priscilla who comes with the kids.

My father always has his wife take a picture of him surrounded by his children, me and my three brothers, and grandchildren, seven of them, including O&O. This past December were gathered for my father's 81st birthday. At some point during that party, I got an email from Allen in prison.

I was unplugged, so I read it the next day.

It was the usual Alan stuff, like a note from a travel journal, meant to remind me that he was still living a most fascinating life.

He named checked some celebrities serving time in the same facility.

Sean Diddy, he wrote, seems depressed, while the cryptocurrency fraudster Alex Mashinsky is

brilliant and fascinating. But mostly, Alan was asking me to pass on his birthday wishes to my father.

He wrote,

I miss the visits to Cape Cod when everyone was together,

and I miss his duck with apples,

horrible and wonderful at the same time,

and his marinated mushrooms,

the one point of permanence in an impermanent life.

End quote.

A 10-year prison sentence isn't as long as it seems, for one thing, because it doesn't last 10 years.

Alan is currently slated to be released in 2030, after spending roughly eight years behind bars.

So we're about halfway now, between Alan's arrest and his planned release.

We're at the point, that is, when there can be

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