Birthdays

Personally, in the far past I never paid much attention to my birthdays.  They came, they left and it really didn’t make much sense all the concert people paid to turning forty, or fifty.  Some expressed the thought that their chances to do something important in their lives was passing them by. I was so busy doing things that I felt were important that their fears didn’t make a lot of sense to me.  At sixty something I started writing songs and every few weeks I would go to my friends studio and we would work together turning out a recording of a song. At sixty-five I took some classes in tap dancing and worked a routine into my speeches. At seventy I was winding down my speaking but still getting out there on the road and at seventy-five I became a prolific writer grinding out a book a year.  At eighty I became Almost Andy, a stand up comic or a humorist doing stuff on my not being Andy Griffith. And now when you read this I will be eighty three and I expect a lot more exciting adventures in my life just being Almost Andy for a while longer. I feel that I can do a great job at meetings that could be boring and turn them into fascinating events. So it is happy, happy birthday to me and may I live, live, live until I die.  Life is really good.