My loving brother Stan had his 70th birthday on August 22nd. This is impossible. He can't be 70. In fact, I strongly objected when he turned 67. Here is the blog post I wrote on that occassion:
Today is my brother Stan's birthday. He is 67. That is impossible. He can't be that old. Really. He is Yell King at Walla Walla High School. He would be ROTC Cadet of the Year except last year Eddie Epstein got it and they "can't" have "two of your people" have it two years in a row.
He can't be 67. Honest. He goes to the University of Washington, plans on being a lawyer, and gets big sub sandwiches from Bluma Bros. deli at 23rd and Cherry.
He can't be 67.
Wait — He's in Washington D.C. doing something with the Senate Commerce Committe with Senator Magnuson. Oh yeah, and working on Civil Rights legislation with Hubert Humphry. Well, I know for a fact he dropped his new fishing pole in the lake when a bee flew in his face.
Oh, now I remember – he's got some theory that the USA can have trade with China …if the boat that arrives comes and goes without incident…or maybe his theory is that if he replaces lake fishing with fly fishing, he can slip on a rock and break his knee in a stream instead of losing his pole in a lake.
He can't be 67 because he just had his 50th birthday party. No, wait ….I just had my 59th birthday and he is 8 years older than I.
YIPES! He IS 67. Even his kids have kids. He is a GRANDFATHER. I mean, this guy is ready to be CARBON DATED. He is almost a moss covered monument. And if you think that's something, our sister is even older.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STAN!
Well, it is three years later and Stan is 70. I am 62. As my son, Jordan, said, "look on the bright side, Dad. Now you can get Social Security!"
Yes, that's the bright side.