I will probably get told off for telling you all this, but that handsome young man right there turns 65 tomorrow. And despite the fact that I shall most likely get a good telling off for announcing such a thing to the entire world – I am doing it anyway! Because 65 is one of those ages that needs to be announced.
That’s my dad, just in case you didn’t know.
So happy birthday my daddyboy. I hope you have a wonderful time at the Andy Warhol exhibition, and that you get to eat lots of cake and that it’s not too windy in the capital city, because being blown off your feet at your ripe old age might see you break a hip and that would be an embarrassing entry into old age now wouldn’t it?
I know I’ve often teased you about your geriatric stage of life, but now I can actually do it legitimately because it’s true! You’ve outlasted the dinosaurs! You’ve lived past an ice age and a reformation of lands! You crawled from the seas with the fish with legs and lost your tail and learned to walk on two legs! You surpassed the intelligence of our neanderthal cousins and expanded your brain to become homosapien! You climbed the pyramids and hailed Ra. You toiled through the slums of India and rose through bodhisattva status to become a Buddha. You developed your own religion and converted the masses and long shall they worship in our glorious name.
What’s left for you now but to take your rightful place alongside the other old folks and collect your pension? Not much I’m afraid. Your present is in the mail. I’ve bought you a walking frame carved from the very first yew tree. Blessed by Danu herself. You’re welcome.
Much love to you my daddyboy!
The tinsel of your Universe. xoxoxo