Today I am 60 years old.
Right now I feel good. I feel as strong and agile as when I was 50. I know that the journey from 60 to 70 can be more…severe. I just want to travel and go to shows with my wife, walk the dog, enjoy the cat, skate, do aikido, game, and see my friends.
Happy birthday Bob. Enjoy the finer things in life today-family, Lefty, Riley, a good book like Something Wicked This way Comes.
Happy birthday, Brother Bob!
60? Hell, that’s a fine number—dizzying, really. I’m right behind you, ticking at 59 this November. Feels like we’re caught in a runaway Cadillac…like dude Thelma and Louises (or maybe not so much that last part), roaring down the Highway to Hell with no brakes.
Sorry I missed you on your recent southern pilgrimage to ATX. But listen, thanks—truly— for being my fellow wannabe outlaw, partner in crime, trusted co-conspirator, and the ultimate curmudgeon. It’s been one wild ride, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing.
Now, here’s what I want for you: live every damn minute. See all the shows that move your soul, crash on the couch with Toni and that ragtag crew of four-legged rebels. Skate till your wheels burn, watch movies like they’re sermons (hahaha), breathe deep like every breath could be your last—and roll, man. Roll like a madman through that parking lot and let the world catch up if it dares.
Go fast, Brother Bob, go fast.
I hope you had a happy 60th birthday, Bob. And may this coming year be your very best, yet!
Thank you!