Birthday greetings, bottle of wine.

Today is my Dad's birthday! I expect to hear a few lines of the Beatles "When I'm Sixty-Four" sung today. We're having a little get-together that includes brunch and then possibly (nom nom) cake? Oksana and Damiano are in from Minnesota this week and we're all going to celebrate together. Yay!

I don't know what sort of music most men his age play on the stereo, but he's the only one I know who blasts Joe Bonamassa, Santana, Eric Clapton, Robert Randolph or some other wailing guitar player so loudly that you can hear it when you're walking in the neighborhood. (This is one of the things I am most proud of him for doing. It's like walking into a loud, awesome concert when I go to his house.) So, here's Clapton and Bonamassa at Royal Albert Hall (he got this dvd for Father's Day this year and really likes it):



Here's to my Pop!

I don't know when this was taken, probably in the late 1970s or early 80s.
My mom and dad moved to JC and would try to fly kites at Binder Park.
I remember them taking me to fly kites a few times when I was little, too.

Dad beaming after getting his gelato fix in Italy.

Me and Dad in San Francisco in 2008.