Happy Birthday!  You made it through another year.  Good for you!  To still be getting around at your age is quite a remarkable feat.  I have been concerned ever since they got rid of mom’s rascal, that you might need it, but there you are.  Standing on your own two feet.  You see I’ve been concerned that all of that baggage you are carrying might weigh you down.  You finally got your James Bond Racing Set, but I have a strong feeling that there is so much more resentment that needs to be released.  Personally, I keep waiting for you to go postal.

I remember the first time we met.  You liked me then.  You didn’t know that your brother would marry me and that I would battle you for the title of family smart-ass.  I love the gentle quips we trade.  The humor that is lost on so many is not lost on you.  We are a lot alike you and I.  I am a wise ass. You are a wise ass.  I love gross medical stuff and google everything medical that I can, and you are just the same.  We have a lot in common my friend…except that age thing.  You are old, and I am not.  (There’s also a slight difference in height, but I’ll keep that to myself, Shorty).  You probably couldn’t imagine all those years ago when you were holding your baby brother, that he would marry someone closer to your age than his.  You’ve handled that well, by the way.  Much better than most members of the families.  You became instant uncle to three of the most unruly, mouthy kids on the planet and you’ve never smacked them once.  I’ve smacked your kid any number of times.  You obviously are endowed with great patience.

I don’t have a ton of stories about your childhood and what kind of kid you were because Boppy wasn’t around then to rat you out and Grandpa isn’t talking.  I do have pictures of you in that bitchin’ hat when you were somewhere around 12.  I can tell from that picture that you were a total playa.  I envision you as a Sinatra fan…although he was just a child when you were born.  The hat however, is totally Frankie.  I know that you were such a frightening child that mom and dad hung up their hats for several years before trying again. I know you were a young parent (not as young as me, but I’ve always been an over achiever), I know you were the President of the Chamber of Commerce in some podunk towns in Iowa and Illinois…guess you couldn’t get a nomination in a real state.  I know that you gave up big city life to run a trout resort in another podunk town (hoping for a C of C post?),  I will never forget the Christmas you held us all hostage while you droned on and on about how life had kicked you in the ass.  You listed every gross injustice you suffered from the beginning of your life through to the then current day.  In your opinion it all began with that damned James Bond Race Track.  Thanks for showing my children that you can grow old without growing up.  It is a lesson they learned well.  But the thing I know the most about you is that you would do anything you could for the people you love…and you have always made me feel that I could count myself among them.

Happy Birthday!!  I hope you get up the wind to blow out all those candles…but knowing how windy you are I am not too worried.  Don’t set off any smoke alarms!  Here’s wishing you a great day…which for a man your age should include a glass of prune juice with which to take his Viagra.

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