Hey kids, it’s the old man again, Grampa Bob coming to you live from rural Douglas County on the Sunday night that is September 2, 2018.
It’s gotta be a little weird for you, the reader. My intended audience is you, the grandchild, maybe great-grandchild that I know, or, sad for me, didn’t get a chance to know.
Don’t get too freaked out about it. I know what I’m trying to accomplish.
I’m about to turn fifty-five. On my dad’s side of the family, there have been more than a couple of significant family members that have passed at the age of 57. Trust me, that kind of thing kind of sticks in my mind. My dad is now 77 years old… beat that demon by twenty years.
I hope I live long enough to know you and share a laugh or two. The reality is, though, that I have to be mindful of my mortality.
Live every day.
It’s better to be meaningful than important.
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Make your world a better place. Sometimes that means you get in there with your hands and make it happen. Other times, that means practicing a little discipline.
Live, love, laugh. Change your underwear.
Watch out for those sneaky farts. Some will surprise you.
Go hug your gramma. If I’m still around, some give me a hug, too.
Peace y’all.
