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Remembering John Furlong: Gadfly journalist, Bruins superfan ... and my dad

It has been a year since we lost John Furlong; father, husband, friend, and saucy journalist.

For anybody who solely knew him as "John Furlong, CBC Radio host," there was much more to him than the provocative, cheeky, fire-starting journalist.

It didn't take a lot to make my father happy. He loved Dr. Mario, he loved a cold Pepsi, he loved Purity cream crackers, and he loved his family.

He was a diehard Bruins fan and he had unconditional love for Leonard Cohen.

It is often said that fathers and daughters share an extra special bond. It definitely proved true for my relationship with my father.

I can remember sitting on the living room floor watching Michael Jackson HIStory on Film, Volume II with him when I was seven. We were big fans of Christopher Guest's mockumentaries like Waiting for Guffman and Best in Show, and my dad used to joke that he and I knew about Jane Lynch before she was "a big deal".

Every so often, he would bring home an absolutely terrible horror movie from the '70s or '80s. It's Alive and Slaughterhouse were some favourites of ours, and we would laugh at the terrible taglines and the poor special effects. If ever we heard a strange noise, he was always adamant that it was Dr. Giggles.

Giving people a voice

Dad loved, loved, loved his job and took so much pride in giving people a voice. He took such in interest in topics that most people from his generation either choose to shrug off or just steer clear.

For instance, he was truly interested in the lives of the young members of our lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transsexual (LGBT) community and he thought it was important for them to have their say.

He was also very driven to remove the stigma surrounding mental illness and to give those with mental health issues a voice.

He was one of the most grateful people I've ever known. Whether I had just shoveled the driveway or set his cellphone ringer to Crimson and Clover, he would be so thankful it could break your heart.

John Furlong had definitely been through a lot in his life; he had experience and wisdom coming out of his ears, but he was still young in many senses.

I remember when my brother was getting rid of some clothes and offered his plaid button-down shirts to my dad. I think we can all agree that there are many instances in which people dress too young and it looks a little silly, but Dad in my brother's plaid shirts could have been an ad for American Eagle.

He had a spot set up in the corner of our basement with an old TV, a stool, and my brother's old Nintendo 64, on which he played Dr. Mario when he was cranky, stressed or just wanted a break.

He was good, too. If you tried to have a conversation with him during a bout of Dr. Mario, you were a brave soul.

He played the game so much that the television screen has the image of the video game burned into it. You can still see the game when the TV is turned off.

Some surprising musical tastes

Dad loved Rod Stewart, Paul Simon and, of course, Leonard Cohen. But, I remember being taken by surprise by a handful of songs that he asked me to upload to his MP3 player, among which were MMMBop by Hanson and Dilemma by Nelly and Kelly Rowland.

He also texted me one day asking me to put the Jerky Boys on his MP3 player and I had just assumed he had made a typo and meant to write "Jersey Boys," since he and his wife Gerry had just seen Jersey Boys in New York a few weeks earlier.

Turns out he did, in fact, want Jerky Boys. He made me sit at his computer and listen to Unemployed Painter while he stood behind me giving off that deep-chest laugh that we all know.

It wasn't until my dad had already been part of the St. John's Masters Softball League for a few years that I began attending his games regularly.

While I like to think of myself as the head of the John Furlong cheering committee, I couldn't believe how many other fans he had in the bleachers.

The first time I was able to see him in all of his softball glory, I watched him interact with the other players and joke with the men and women in the beer house and for the first time I completely understood that the way I feel about him; the love and admiration that I have for John Furlong, was not only because I was his daughter.

It was because he was a wonderful, amazing, warm, caring person to anyone and everyone, regardless of history, circumstance or appearance.

John Furlong was one of a kind, in every sense of the phrase, and I miss him every day.