I missed your birthday. I’m sorry. From the pictures, it looks like you had fun.
This post started as a roast. A walk down memory lane.
And there are just so many soft targets. Where does one start.
Well, let’s start with your Baby fat. It must have been cute at five. It’s all a bit unseemly at 50.
While we haven’t worked together for years, the memories are fresh. Your complete lack of organization immediately comes to mind. Your inbox gushing like water over a dam with thousands of unread emails. (Most of them mine.) And not a worry on your brow.
Your ability to consistently stumble to the finish line, harried, flustered, often late and not even knowing it.
Yet, despite the urging from your wily Dominican assistant (blond looks good on her in the pic btw), I couldn’t go there.
You play bigger than this. So much bigger.
I remember how your eyes would light up when you spoke of spear fishing as a child in the warm tropical waters of Puerto Rico.
