A little story of celebration

It started way before either one of us were born.

Our grandparents befriend each other...possibly on the Mayflower, although I'm not sure I have all of the details correct.

Then our parents attended highschool together.

Then our generation came along and you attended highschool with my cousins.

Then the fateful day came when we met. We probably had met before this day as I had met a lot of friends of my cousins, but just didn't remember them. However, the day came when we met again at Lake Shasta. We played ebonics scrabble, made some poor little kid go swimming halfway across the lake with me while the rest of the boys pointed and laughed, got sunburned, and went wakeboarding. You had just had shoulder surgery and was so politely driving the boat all week until the last day that we were out there and you finally caved and decided to get on the wakeboard. You impressed us with your ability to wakeboard with one arm, even landing a backflip. Yep, it was impressive. I wanted to be that good, but it always happened that any time I tried to do a backflip, I would get a face full of water and a headache.

Now our paths have crossed again via MySpace and Blogger and it's been a pleasure. I enjoy the stories that you tell, the obscene band pictures that you post, and the updates on running of course.

Yes, as you may have guessed, this is the birthday blog for Mule. I suppose I'm a day late if I figure right, but everybody deserves a birthday blog. You're a good person. You have a good heart. I hope you had a good birthday. I probably use the word good too much. I remember when I turned 18. It was great. (Whaa??) I wish you all the best in the next year and hope you achieve all of your goals.

And now, I will sing Happy Birthday in my head.

The End.