My Dad turns 78 today.  That means he was 47 years old when I was born.  He was 12 when my Mom was born (at the age of 30 it is finally appropriate/legal for me to look at women with this same age difference).   He is less mobile than he used to be, but he seems to have a majority of his wits still, although he is inching closer to what I like to refer to as “Mugabe-land.” Speaking of which, seeing  a parent, or for some of you a grandparent, get old makes you think, how do we still have old men running countries and in this country, sitting in the Senate?  My Dad raving about governmental conspiracies or issues with his co-op’s board of directors feel a lot less problematic since he does not have a vote in the U.S. Senate or an army of Zimbabweans at his disposal.

Tomorrow I will hopefully have more to write (been struggling with writer’s block).  But I am going to Denver to open 6 shows for a magician-comedian, so I am guessing that will give me stuff to write about.  Now you see my career, now you don’t.

Well, off to IHOP with the pops.  It’s the pancake breakfast.  We do it every month. – Anchorman