So I'm usually not surprised when he has a rush of energy and, like Ernest Hemingway, makes a snap decision in the direction of adventure. I remember the phone call like it was yesterday (it was last Friday, around noon). Dad called me at my gallery, Manilow's. "Manny," he said, "we're going to Vegas. Yes, Las Vegas, right now. While the sun is still shining. I want to see the sun on lots of windows. To see it light them up, like little suns."