Happy Birthday to Me!

March 22 has rolled around again. I feel pretty good for a sixty year old. I'm a little outa shape, a little overweight, have a little high BP and a little high cholesterol -- nothing terrible so far.

But 60!

That sounds like somebody else. It can't be this kid. I still feel like the same guy, and he's not 60.

My mother has posted a bit of hyperbole about me. She and three of my sisters and other family threw me a little dinner where we devoured wonderful chicken and dumplings, two delicious salads, green grapes, and a homemade cake with ice cream. The Median Sib's husband, an accomplished songwriter from Nashville, called to sing an original composition in honor of my birth - it had allusions to my politics in it, but I was laughing so hard I missed most of it. I do remember this tidbit of internal rhyme, "...Obama's Mama..."

I cannot hold my eyes open-- I'm heade up to bed. If you want to see more about the old coot, check out last March.