Good Morning Gentle Readers,
Today is Dad's birthday. Though he was born just a few months before Black Tuesday in 1929 he wears his age well. He's thin, healthy, lucid, and still splits his own firewood. It just takes him a while to get it done.
TWC and Dad at Big Bear Lake, camping in a surplus Army tent circa 1953
Like most of us who've been around the block a few times, he's seen some stunning changes. He grew up in St Paul where milk was still delivered door to door by horse drawn dairy wagons. Buck Rogers was a childhood fantasy, but Dad would live to see the reality of the moon landing. Ultimately the world left mechanical behind for digital, radio for cable and internet, and natural fabrics for synthetics and back to natural again. It was number please, rotary dial mechanical phones, private lines, extensions in other rooms, push button technology, and then cellular phones. And, of all the technological innovation of the last eighty years, he is most amazed by cell phones.
If someone would have told me fifty years ago that people would walk around the grocery store talking on a phone I would have told them they were out of their mind.
Happy Birthday, Dad.