Mark is now firmly entrenched

Streaming along in his 6th decade, Mark is the elder member of the 4th estate at his cubicle and from the working hours of 3 a.m. to 3:45 a.m.  No one, and I mean NO one, has the dedication, fervor, and borderline maniacal motivation to schlep around bongo drums and tubas while barefoot. 

Incessant pleadings by his son, Alec, go unheard!  "Daaaaaaaaaaad, pu-leeeeeeeeeeeeeze, don't do it," can be heard and echoed throughout the halls of the high school.  "Aaaaaargh!!"

But, no.  Mark continues to do it.  Why?  No one knows.  Possibly because his foot was malformed as result of getting the car door slammed on his foot when he wouldn't retract "Go to hell, Mickey Mouse." as a two year old.  His 'terrible twos' went on until his 20's, when his other foot was slammed in a car door as part of the hazing ritual for the journalism fraternity, Sigma Delta Chi.  Whoda thunk the journalism fraternity is more feared at the University of Oregon than Donald Trump on another whining tear?

All we can do is wish Mark a happy birfday and hope like hell that he never finds out where we live.  So, Happy Birfday, Mark!

"Firmly entrenched?"

Nah. I prefer to think of it as "Finally playing with a full deck."

Thanks!

ounce wrote:Streaming along in his 6th decade, Mark is the elder member of the 4th estate at his cubicle and from the working hours of 3 a.m. to 3:45 a.m.  No one, and I mean NO one, has the dedication, fervor, and borderline maniacal motivation to schlep around bongo drums and tubas while barefoot. 

Incessant pleadings by his son, Alec, go unheard!  "Daaaaaaaaaaad, pu-leeeeeeeeeeeeeze, don't do it," can be heard and echoed throughout the halls of the high school.  "Aaaaaargh!!"

But, no.  Mark continues to do it.  Why?  No one knows.  Possibly because his foot was malformed as result of getting the car door slammed on his foot when he wouldn't retract "Go to hell, Mickey Mouse." as a two year old.  His 'terrible twos' went on until his 20's, when his other foot was slammed in a car door as part of the hazing ritual for the journalism fraternity, Sigma Delta Chi.  Whoda thunk the journalism fraternity is more feared at the University of Oregon than Donald Trump on another whining tear?

All we can do is wish Mark a happy birfday and hope like hell that he never finds out where we live.  So, Happy Birfday, Mark!

(This is really quite funny. Thanks, Ounce! But for the record, I've discovered they're not bongo drums, they're conga drums.)

Good to hear that you managed to find time to fit in a run in your birthday shoes this year.

Enjoy the rest of the day...and the rest of the year!