In May of 1999 my father passed away, 73 days after his 58th birthday. Today, December 31, 2021, is 73 days after my 58th birthday. It’s strange to think about. He seemed like such a man to me, and I still feel like such a kid. Maybe my perception of him is belied by the rows upon rows of shelves full of toys he had in the basement. 😄 But I always thought of him as being so solid. I never feel as sure of myself as I thought he was. I wonder now if that was really true, or if that, too, was just my perception. Certainly, he was a constant consumer of information; a seeker of knowledge. Maybe that was a sign that on the in his mind his ideas, ideals, his ways of thinking, could be just as much in flux as mine can be. In retrospect, that seems more likely to me than I would have guessed at the time. Or maybe now that I’ve arrived at “his” age, I’m just disappointed that I’m not as wise as I was expecting to be. As I thought he was. What I do know beyond any doubt is that he lived a life he enjoyed. He loved his family, loved his friends, loved music, and loved to eat. In those respects, I can assure you the apple has not fallen very far from the tree. Sometime this morning I started living on time he never got. Today it feels even more important to appreciate it. Make it a happy new year, everybody.