MARKING THE GENERATIONS
This week marks the birthdays of some people who are very special to me. I'm not usually one to get especially sentimental about birthdays, but I do sometimes take note of them as special occasions that denote significant life milestones. Such was the case earlier this week. And while I admittedly am the proud father of four, this is the first of my children's birthdays to occur since I began writing this blog last June.
On Tuesday, my son Brendan celebrated his eighteenth birthday. It seems unbelievable to me that this lad, who has been so special to me since the day he was born, is now old enough to legitimately be called an adult. Now a senior in high school, he has become a mature and responsible young man. I recently noted that, in eighteen years, Brendan has never, ever disrespected or talked back to me. Not once. How many fathers can say that about their sons? For many reasons, too numerous to list here, I am very proud of him.
To celebrate the occasion, I took Brendan and three of his good buddies to Hooters in Jeffersonville for dinner on Tuesday evening. It was a real blast, as I did my best to try to fit in as just one of the guys. When I told our waitress that it was Brendan's birthday, she had him come out into the middle of the room. He was surrounded by seven or eight other waitresses, who all wished him a happy birthday and then forced him to use a hula-hoop in front of the entire crowd. He took it all in stride, and I was amazed at his ability to keep the hoop swirling around his (narrow) waist. It made me long to be eighteen again.
I must say that the experience was enhanced because of the fairly new smoking ban that is in place in the city of Jeffersonville. With any luck--and persistence on the part of anti-smoking advocates--we'll have a similar ban in place in New Albany in the near future. In any event, we finally left the place after Brendan and his buds devoured many hot wings and soft drinks. From my perspective, it was a great evening. I think that they enjoyed it too.
Tomorrow is another special birthday: my mother's. (I won't specifically say how old Mom is going to be, but we did have a special celebration for her 70th last year.) If you have read many postings on this blog, you probably know how close my mother and I are. She is an especially cool gal--truly one of my best friends--and we are always enjoying good times together. When I was at her house for our weekly dinner last night, we had a great conversation about the unbelievably swift passage of time, among many other subjects. For all that she has done for me and for others, I hope that Mom has a special day tomorrow.
That's all for now. Party on, dudes.
--The Meatbe
This week marks the birthdays of some people who are very special to me. I'm not usually one to get especially sentimental about birthdays, but I do sometimes take note of them as special occasions that denote significant life milestones. Such was the case earlier this week. And while I admittedly am the proud father of four, this is the first of my children's birthdays to occur since I began writing this blog last June.
On Tuesday, my son Brendan celebrated his eighteenth birthday. It seems unbelievable to me that this lad, who has been so special to me since the day he was born, is now old enough to legitimately be called an adult. Now a senior in high school, he has become a mature and responsible young man. I recently noted that, in eighteen years, Brendan has never, ever disrespected or talked back to me. Not once. How many fathers can say that about their sons? For many reasons, too numerous to list here, I am very proud of him.
To celebrate the occasion, I took Brendan and three of his good buddies to Hooters in Jeffersonville for dinner on Tuesday evening. It was a real blast, as I did my best to try to fit in as just one of the guys. When I told our waitress that it was Brendan's birthday, she had him come out into the middle of the room. He was surrounded by seven or eight other waitresses, who all wished him a happy birthday and then forced him to use a hula-hoop in front of the entire crowd. He took it all in stride, and I was amazed at his ability to keep the hoop swirling around his (narrow) waist. It made me long to be eighteen again.
I must say that the experience was enhanced because of the fairly new smoking ban that is in place in the city of Jeffersonville. With any luck--and persistence on the part of anti-smoking advocates--we'll have a similar ban in place in New Albany in the near future. In any event, we finally left the place after Brendan and his buds devoured many hot wings and soft drinks. From my perspective, it was a great evening. I think that they enjoyed it too.
Tomorrow is another special birthday: my mother's. (I won't specifically say how old Mom is going to be, but we did have a special celebration for her 70th last year.) If you have read many postings on this blog, you probably know how close my mother and I are. She is an especially cool gal--truly one of my best friends--and we are always enjoying good times together. When I was at her house for our weekly dinner last night, we had a great conversation about the unbelievably swift passage of time, among many other subjects. For all that she has done for me and for others, I hope that Mom has a special day tomorrow.
That's all for now. Party on, dudes.
--The Meatbe