Happy birthday, Gill!
At three minutes after six this morning I joined a club belonged to many before me, and many yet to come. I hit a milestone birthday, I turned 35. Big deal? To some it’s yuck, but to me it’s not too shabby.
It’s All Greek To Me
To understand this a little better we must travel back to the summer of 1979. Donna Summers sat at the top of the charts, Jr. had yet to be shot on Dallas, and my parents and I took a trip. I don’t remember it, but later my parents presented slide shows of their, and in some respects my Greek adventure. They took the now out of business Ward air, and I provided in flight entertainment. Since there wasn’t the technology to have movies I did the kick shimmy, the mommy feet on the bladder dance, and so much more.
The Day Before I was Born
I was supposed to be born November 4th, but like I do now pre-birth me lacked much of an attention span. On October 23 1979 my mom taught her 5th-graders as usual, went home, had dinner, and settled in for a night of TV and paper grading. She went to bed around eleven, but at eleven-thirty she wasn’t feeling right, and asked my dad to take her to the hospital.
Welcome To The World
It was just over six hours until I entered the world, but something wasn’t right with me. When the doctor in attendance shone the light in my eyes according to my mom I did not respond. Two days after I was sent on to a bigger hospital, and the diagnosis of a vision problem was made.
My dad at the time ran a business in which he owned six orchards, but on the day I was born a freak blizzard rolled in, and all picking stopped for three days.
So far my friends out there my sister, more about her in future writings, called me up as she was getting ready for work, and if anyone asks, I still don’t feel older.