Photographer Thomas Francisco said to put together a box of stuff that meant something to me, my family and my father. I loaded up an old cardboard box and dropped it off for the artist.

A while later he called to say he had a proof of the cover to show me. It was in black and white and blew my mind.

If you've read A FATHER'S PLACE,  you'll know my father was a carpenter. So was Tom's dad. They were cousins but rarely worked on jobs together. My dad's worn extension ruler provides three quarters of the cover border.

The fake eyeglasses intimate the humor throughout the book.

The (Panasonic) company ID provides the author's photo and name (mostly).

The shiny heads-up penny is good luck.

The center of the front cover depicts the war years: My dad's Army pin, his wedding photo - still in uniform, a courtship photo, and a  framed photo of my young some-day-to-be-mom.

My dad's dog tags rest on a photo of his mom and step dad (and the family dogs) from 1943

The two cents is on the courtship photo  Tom's personal touch. When he lived next door to my Grandmother, her husband used to give Tom two-cents to clean up things, and otherwise keep a small boy busy.

The pocket knife and the hammer-in-belt-loop represent the carpenter's tools.

My father's pocket watch is set to the time of day I was born.

Buttons are strewn on the cover to represent my mom - who was known for her sewing.

The carpenter's apron contains finishing nails.

Under the photo of my young daughter and her Cabbage Patch doll is a post card of the Terrace Hilton in Cincinnati where I stayed while on a business trip for trade association executives.

The tip of a pigeon racing trophy is in the upper left hand corner of the back cover. A string of pigeon club bands is laced over the photo of a prize winning bird.

My Labrador retriever Libby looks up from a green patch of grass. Her old license lies on the photo.

The buy-ten get one free coupon is from New York Pizza in Nutley, near Hoffman La Roche.

The deck of cards and the Monopoly game piece, and the toy guns, represent good times of playing.

The skeleton key - heck all our doors opened with skeleton keys in those days on Gless Avenue in Belleville, N.J.