If I had to answer who my father reminded me of growing up, I would have to say Jack Torrence from the The Shining.

No, he didn't chase me through a frozen maze with an ax, but he did traumatize us in other the uncreative ways that alcoholics do.

I think the resemblance just comes from the look my father had as he walked through the house, a bundle of calm, frantic energy that rested just behind his eyes and that could explode at any second.

I think I came out pretty okay, though.