Right about now -- sunrise on the US East Coast -- my dad should be taking his morning constitutional along the well-manicured walkways of Port St Lucie, Florida. He'll end up at a local gym for his daily workout regimen. Muscles & cardio sufficiently invigorated, he'll briskly walk to a coffee shop and hold court with fellow Northeast escapees. The morning ritual is complete upon his return to the lovely home he shares with his wife Louise, who maintains a health food superstore's supply of nutritious goodies to satisfy a well-earned hunger.
Helluva start to any day, really. But today isn't any day. Today's his birthday. Born on St Patrick's Day in NYC's Lower East Side in the mythic year of 1939. The eldest of ten children born to Joseph and Eileen Wall. My dad.
Happy birthday. Slainte!
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