Happy Birthday, Satchel!
How on earth did you ever get to be 9-years-old. Hell, this blog is older than you!
At any rate — and knowing that one day when you’re old enough to Google your Dad and read all the decidedly nasty things people have written about him (along with the laudatory stuff, which may give you some comfort that you weren’t born of a complete monster), and as a matter of course find this site and its decade of content — I hope you do a search for your own name and find this message: as your father, I couldn’t possibly be any more proud of you. You are a blessing and a constant joy, one of the few humans on the planet that can make me laugh out loud (the rest these days being the cast of “Duck Dynasty”). And I love you, son, more than you will ever imagine.
You are so many things that I’ve tried to be but could never manage: routinely affable, extraordinarily accepting, a natural leader who needs not rely on bluster or polished rhetoric to have people follow him. Those are traits you must have gotten from your mother, god bless her.
Like me, though, you are a loyal friend and you hold yourself to a high set of standards when it comes to those things that interest you most. Right now, that’s Minecraft and Lego building. But here, the content matters less than the form.
Happy 9th birthday, Satch.
And just for you, a birthday haiku:
there is a season. May yours
be always Summer.