film / tv / substack / social media / lists / web / celeb / pajiba love / misc / about / cbr
film / tv / substack / web / celeb

HamDad.png

Lin-Manuel Miranda's Dad Is #DadGoals (Sorry, Dad)

By Tori Preston | Miscellaneous | July 31, 2017 |

By Tori Preston | Miscellaneous | July 31, 2017 |


Look, I love my dad. The man is largely self-educated, he loves buying me power tools, and he would always cover for me with my mom by reminding her of his own funny/sad drug experimentation stories. It’s handy having a supremely chill dude for a father who has done way crazier shit than you ever have and knows it. Oh, and he also used to drive me around on his motorcycle and take me to bike shows, and point out big crazy biker dudes and be like “If you get lost, trust Crazy Charlie over there.” Then he’d braid my hair.

So I totally lucked out in the dad department… but you know what? I might give it all up for a shot at being Luis A. Miranda, Jr.’s kid. I mean, just look at this adorable shit right here:

Did your cold hearts melt a little when he misremembered the Hamilton lyrics for “You’ll Be Back” and then added a reference to women anyway, telling Lin-Manuel “I don’t wanna discriminate”? He’s the cutest. THE CUTEST.

He posted his #Ham4All video today, because it’s the last day of the Hamilton Prizeo campaign benefiting the Immigrants: We Get The Job Done Coalition, which is comprised of 12 partner organizations that work throughout the United States to provide services to immigrants, refugees, and asylees, including legal representation, advocacy, and awareness campaigns. For just a $10 donation to the campaign, you can be entered to win two VIP tickets to attend the opening night of Hamilton in L.A. You’ll get to hit the afterparty, have your flights and hotels paid for, and probably hang out and become besties with Lin-Manuel himself. You may even meet his dad. I mean, the campaign doesn’t say that… but c’mon. We’re #Ham4Luis over here. We’ll take what we can get.

Only a few hours left to donate, and a lifetime to regret that we were all born in to the wrong families.

(I love you, Dad. Don’t disown me.)