51 Years Later

I was born 51 years ago today, at Crawford W. Long hospital in Atlanta Georgia. That was before it was the Atl, people still had a pride about saying the word Atlanta, and did not pride themselves on their higher command of slang language.

It was a good day for me 51 years ago, although I am sure it was rough for my Mother, but I became a survivor that day, and it is a trend I have continued over the years. I also have no other plans, other than continuing the trend of being a survivor for many years to come.

I don't like a lot of whoop la about my birthday. Today I got up here on Bone Island, put my uniform on and went to work. It is a beautiful day here, and although I would much rather be fishing, I went to work because it is my duty to do so. I stoped along the way at Five Brothers Store and had cafe con leche and Cuban toast for breakfast, and on the ride to Boca Chica I listened to the Black Crows at a volume that cancelled out the ringing tinnitus in my left ear while enjoying the view of the sun rising across the ocean. God speaks to me from the great waters and I believe he places you where you need to be, such is the case this morning. Not a bad way to start the day.

So Happy birthday to me, and thank you Mom and Dad for making me, delivering me, raising me, and putting up with me for the last 51 years. Thank you, Belinda, Paul, and Mark for being my anchor and the loves of my life.

The Old Chief sends