Dave’s Dad is…
OLD.
That’s right campers, my old man is old. How old is he? So old that when he stops to look at the displays at the museum kids mistake him for the fossil exhibit. So old the knight in Indiana Jones looks like his younger brother. So old that when he first started as a reporter it was for the Mesopatamian Times and prior to filing his stories he had to press his own papyrus.
Yes he’s that old and today the race to the grave speeds up (as his ability to digest solid food slows down). The man is now counting down 365 days to the milestone that signifies the Rascal scooter, baby food and bib, cant see over the steering wheel phase of life. Least he has had a 25 year jump on honing his “When I was a boy…” diatribes. He shouldve done what I did and retired when he was still spry enough to enjoy it.
You think I am kidding about the senility thing but the man celebrated his bday today by failing to look behind him while backing out of the driveway and smacking Max’s truck into my mom in her van thus doing damage to two of our own cars in one fell swoop.
If that aint a sign he’s old I dont know what is.
So for those that know him, and especially those that work with him. Be nice to him today. Be gentle, cause you talk to him too loud and you might break his hip.
Happy Birthday Old Man from everyone here at WhereDaveIs.com. (Look at him. He’s so…old.)
(PS WhereDaveIs is sorry for the break in chronology. Expect things to be fully caught up when you return to work on Tues)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! You aren’t that old.
Eh…. I take it back. Pretty old, yea.
- J
Happy belate birthday Mr. Kienzler! Good thing Dave didn’t write you a poem for your birthday.
I think Max’s poem for Gleanne should be a sonnet but Mike deserves an elegy/encomium – a song of praise for a great king. There is one year until he reaches the magic age of 60, time enough for someone with more creativity than me to do a version of the intro to Beowulf:
You have heard of the Danish kings in the old days & how they were great warriors…. He prospered under the sky until the people everywhere listened when he spoke. He was a good king!… Shield had a son, child for his yard, sent by God to comfort the people, to keep them from fear…. Young princes should do as he did — give out treasures while they’re still young so that when they’re old people will support them in time of war…. Shield died at his fated hour, went to God still strong…. Now he had a golden banner high over his head, was, sadly by a rich people, given to the sea. The wisest alive can’t tell where a death ship goes.
My dad is not Beowulf