Dear Danielle, Katie, Sherri and Ivy, This morning I take keyboard in hand to thank you publicly for making my 50th birthday the memorable event it was.
I knew I was in trouble when I saw the 'Nifty, nifty, Travis is 50' banner over the entrance to the Monitor - only it was blurry, of course, because I'm so old I need bifocals. The death shroud on my desk was a nice touch, as was the thoughtful collection of brochures for the aged. Getting whipped cream squirted on top of my bald head instead of on my birthday brownie made me feel young again, and I, too, think that we should publish a "Geezer Gazette."
As we continue to grow old together, please remember two things.
One, please stop calling me "Dad," "Grandpa" or "Fifties Boy."
And two, when I turn 60, I want a Miata.