It's not often a person has the opportunity to celebrate their sixty-fifth birthday. In looking at the obits lately I've noticed that fact. Yesterday, I had the realization that 'I've arrived'. Last night we went to dinner with my former boss. I was asked how I felt. "Well, I'm on Medicare, Social Security and I'm still good lookin'", I said. In unison Lizzie and The Boss stated, "Two out of three ain't bad".
Without getting into the intimate details, it was a perfect day; a number of birthday cards, email greetings, a fine meal at an authentic Italian restaurant and a personalized birthday cake. Brad Pitt never had it so good.
Here is the topper: being sung to with perfect pitch, "Happy Birthday to you", from my almost four year old granddaughter. Then, having each of your grandchildren offer their happiest wishes in only the way under seven year olds can accomplish.
Of all 65 yesterday was the most perfect while I've been on this earth. Ten thousand people in Vegas should be so lucky.
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