We've had a pretty mild summer this year. The mercury may briefly top eighty degrees later today, but it's cool enough now for the windows to be open to the breeze. OTOH, the day Jake was born was into triple digits. The air was thick and oppressive. Not steamed and downright viscous like Memphis, Baton Rouge, or Charleston, where you gotta hack your way through it with a machete. But it wasn't the dry heat one associates with the southwest. Sixty percent humidity and one hundred degree plus heat ain't comfy.And I remember the heat. And that Jacob was a long time coming. And that he was born blue.
TWC's pick for a name was Charles Fremont Snell II, after his great, great grandfather. Mrs TWC wasn't having any of that stuff. I don't mind, though, Jacob Michael is a fine name and besides, everyone knows that there isn't a schoolyard bully walkin' that can beat up a kid named Jake. That's a junkyard dog of a name.
Jake starts high school in a few days. He's always been gregarious and outgoing. Never met a stranger. Everybody knows him and most everyone likes him. Last spring in Washington he managed to wiggle his way through the Secret Service and ended up on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial while President Obama was addressing the crowd. It began slowly, rolling around the mall like a wave at Anaheim Stadium. The crowd chanting, in waves, one single question.....
Who is that guy up there with Jacob Snell?
Jake has always made us proud, he's sharp, quick witted, reads like a house afire, loves basketball, finished junior high on the honor roll, and he's a stand-up guy.
Course, he's fourteen and he's way smarter than his mother or I, but he'll be shocked at how much we'll learn in the next five or six years.
Happy Birthday, Sonny Boy.
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