Happy Birthday to the Best

I honor my father today on his 126th Birthday. He left this world in 1977.  I celebrate him each year with updates and amusements.

His days began by reading a quotation from his datebook/journal. He loved to share fables and folk sayings and believed William Feather's adage, "One way to get the most out of life is to look upon it as an adventure."

With his background in broadcasting and passion for international communication, he would be quite a fan of the internet.  He'd revel in the technological gadgets that abound.  A cell phone with all its applications, super digital camera, and a huge screen for sports viewing would attract his attention.

He might feel frustrated by the sensationalism and inaccuracies of the media regardless of its ease of access. I doubt he’d feel surprised at the state of international relations. Even though the world has conflicts and troubles, he'd have faith in possibilities. He'd believe in ways to develop ideas and new institutions. 

What fun it would be to bring him back for a day.

I'd take him to breakfast at my favorite café overlooking the Pacific coast, so he could observe the sea and its creatures.  We’d order a jelly and cheese omelet and have half grapefruits to start. Multi-grain toast and boysenberry jam would top it off.

I’d tour him on my computer and show him how a cell phone works.  His eyes would grow large and he’d want to take over.  I’d advise him - First a walk!  He'd try to convince me otherwise but I've mastered his techniques in assertiveness.  

"Let's go!" I'd lead the way.

He’d remark at the scents of the flowers and watch the pelicans and seagulls testing the currents.  A pod of dolphins would delight him as they jumped and fished.

"Do they still make coca cola?" he'd ask and, "Wow, cameras without film so you can take shot after shot . . . Really?"

He'd turn, and chuckle, "Petsy, I miss hot dogs, mustard, and Delaware Punch."

I'd hug him and breathe his Old Spice then watch the curling smile at the corner of his lips.

"Now, show me that communication net?" he'd ask. "Stock market still around?"

We'd walk to another café where he could go WIFI, play all day and acquaint himself with world politics. Adjusting easily to the keys, within minutes he'd have mastered the world wide web.

He'd look out at the clouds turning into animals and shapes. "Nature hasn't changed too much has it?" he'd say. "It's still a marvel."

Before sunset, we would return to sit on a bench by the sea. We'd watch what we called our “great ball of fire” ease past the horizon.

"I finally caught the green flash, twice" I'd say. "But never by camera." We had always tried for years without success.

"We'll just have to keep trying to see it together, Petsy."

Happy Birthday, Daddy. Same time, next year.