Tiny e Ranch

Dan,
Happy Birthday welcome to 32!!!
Have a drink for me!
Katina

What do 32 and Dan have in common besides the passing of years?

Number of times we've been drunk at the campsite (cautious estimate)

Number of VWs in and out of Dan's possession

How many times Dan has picked me up at an airport somewhere (usually with beer)

The record number of hours he's been late to a social function?

Ever Dan, ever young; ever late . . . ever REALLY, REALLY late. (Let's put it this way: Dan makes late into an ART FORM.) And ever generous and kind (when you can locate him). A gallant fellow. A modern-day Don Quixote (or is that Sancho Panza?).

I saw our dear friend on May 9, shortly after he read this post. To mark the occasion, Dan arrived about 18 hours after the time set for a certain minor social gathering that Dan had, himself, PROPOSED. (We enjoyed the movie, Dan. Thanks for the tip!) But Dan's lateness was not the theme of this meeting. No, Dan had arrived at the very cusp of early middle age, and it was time to celebrate. It was time to live it up like the COOL CATS (or is that DOGS?) we both remembered having been, when we had been slightly younger. So we HAD LUNCH. And then Dan DROVE TO WORK. I can only imagine what living it up in middle middle age will be like. (Having somebody else drive you to work?)

But I digress. Disguise it though he may, I can attest that Dan enjoyed being thus remembered (though he does have some quibble with the photograph, or maybe the caption). He is DULY PLEASED.

And -- to speak more seriously -- Dan is very grateful for his friends, particularly those who live very far away from Friendsville, Pennsylvania. You know who you are.

Somebody, I don't know who, sent me a fancifully altered transcript of some of our conversation on May 9. The names of the participants have been REDACTED:

FRIEND 1: Say it for the tape, buddy.

FRIEND 2: [Reading slowly.] I am VERY grateful for my friends, PARTICULARLY those . . .

FRIEND 1: [Interrupting.] Hey, you lost a little weight there.

FRIEND 2: You noticed!

FRIEND 1: Not so paunchy.

FRIEND 2: The abs instructor says that I am "trying." The key is "attendance." That's what she tells me, anyway.

FRIEND 1: Kind of cuddly-looking, too.

FRIEND 2: Are we talking about the abs instructor now?

FRIEND 1: Not cuddly-looking like Sophie, though.

FRIEND 2: When I was five months and four days old, I was cuddly-looking just like that.

FRIEND 1: I highly doubt that you were.

FRIEND 2: You have a point. But neither were you. And she IS five months and four days old. . . . Hey, you lost a tooth.

FRIEND 1: You noticed!

FRIEND 2: [To himself, ruminatively.] "Bewildered"? What's wrong with "bewildered"?