Christ almighty! Today would have been my Dad’s 70th birthday!
Ever since he passed away over ten years ago, I have celebrated his birthday each year by doing things that he often enjoyed during a typical week; such as (but not limited to):
* Go to Selsey and have a full English breakfast
* Listen to all his favourite music in the car
* Demolish a big curry with Kingfisher Lager and imagine him sniffing away as the Madras took hold
* Put a few quid on the dogs or horses
* Watch a game of footy if it’s on; If not, watch ‘Finding Eric’, a montage of 80’s and 90’s Man utd footage on youtube or a Laurel and Hardy film
* Randomly beep the car horn at strangers and see if they wave back or growl at them like a bear whilst they go across a zebra crossing to see if they jump out of their skin.
This year however, I’m finding it really hard to comprehend that he would have been 70 years old? 70?!?
Dad was a typical Clint Eastwood or John Wayne archetype, an indomitable spirit who had dynamite and napalm coursing through his veins; so I genuinely can’t imagine him being a little old man!
As today is a Monday and a working day, I will be unable to do a few of the things on the list above; however, come tonight, I will be toasting him with a pint of Indias finest lager!
Miss you Dad, Happy birthday!
Why do people say “I’d like to be a fly on the wall….”?
Flies eat shit.