Folks, it’s about to get all GEEZER CENTRAL over here.
My dad is celebrating his birthday today. Which one? I have no idea. I just know he’s getting really old. And I also know this post will irritate him… because this is how he feels about birthdays:
So, you know, it’s not a big festivity or anything.
UNTIL NOW. BECAUSE I’M GONNA POST THIS ON THE GREAT INTERWEBS! I GOT FOLLOWERS IN MILWAUKEE, POPS! YOU’RE FAMOUS!*
Ok, so here’s a little rundown on the great and mighty Jim, also known as MY DAD:
He’s a little bit of this:
And, the poor man, he had to be also some of this:
And, finally, just a SKOTCH of this:
But really? The man is all his own. Rather hard to pin down. Sorta an enigma. A Jim enigma. A Jimigma.
For example: This is how it rolled at our house on Saturday mornings, around 7 am, back when we were sleepy teenagers. In the house of Jim, “sleeping in” was an urban legend, sorta like spotting Bigfoot in the backyard or getting out of mowing the lawn. Not gonna happen. Wanna know how he chose to wake up the troops?
By blasting the soundtrack to Victory At Sea on his record player. BLASTING. IT, I tell you.
And the ill-humored teenager, all curled up in teenagered, sullen sleep, was rocketed out of her bed to the sound of fifty billion violins and some melodic bombs.
If you have a teenager? Get the soundtrack. It works. Causes a bit of trauma, but who’s keeping track?
Happy Birthday to one of my favorite people ever.
I love you, Dad!
*The lawyer says he doesn’t know if I actually have any followers in Milwaukee. Sigh. Milwaukee, where’s the love?