“[W]hen I was a teenager and decided that I wanted to dance, I asked him if we could go, for the first time, to a ballet performance. … My father, at that moment in a cut-off sweatshirt covered with muffin crumbs, bacon grease, Flintstones Jelly and beer stains replied without dropping a beat–‘Yeah, I’d like to see something by Twyla Tharp, I understand she’s quite innovative’.”