I blame my Dad

Dear Friend,

Would you believe that for awhile, particularly when I was in middle school and beginning high school, I was convinced that any movie made before I was born wasn't worth my time? And heaven forbid it wasn't in color! I'm sorry to admit that, yes, I was that foolish at one time. (I didn't even think about the fact that all those Disney movies I loved so much were made before I was even thought of, illogical thing that I was.)
My Dad has always been a fan of movies, old or new, and I think he probably prefers films to television.  He was a big influence for me to give old movies a shot. Dad always has a copy of a fairly recent Leonard Maltin movie book. I've been known to just flip through those books at random, just to read a quick plot synopsis and on occasion a cast list. Dad's also got a pretty sizable collection of DVDs on hand (though not as big as mine...), being a fan of the $5 or $1 DVD bins in supermarkets.  He sometimes finds some gems in there, amazingly enough.  He introduced me to the Marx Brothers who I found hilarious, despite the lack of hue on the screen. 
But I think the most encouraging part my Dad has played in my becoming a fan of classic films is that he's almost always willing to watch a movie with me.  Sure, there are movies that are decidedly "Mom and Me" movies, like romantic comedies, but most of the other films I want to see whether an animated family film, exciting sci-fi, or critically acclaimed classic or more recently silent slapstick I know that if I want to watch with someone else, Dad will most likely be up for it. 
So, now that I'm a hopeless fan of classic films, who literally turns on the Turner Classic Movies channel every single day, I can blame my Dad.  Or should that be Thank my Dad?