My dad's birthday has always been an extra special event. Not that he really cares about birthdays - 'cause he doesn't. But because it's the day before the 4th of July and we'd always go into Greendale (where he and I were born) and spend the day at my Aunt Ruth's. The Village of Greendale had a huge party - rides, beer gardens, parade, events for the kids (finding money in a sand pit) - my Uncle Jerry used to have an ice cream truck and we'd help him out on occasion. Fireworks, playing in the woods near the creek with bottle rockets...really a good, old-fashioned, Americana-type of 4th, and as big of an event as Christmas. I couldn't get home to help him celebrate - the company I work for just moved to a new location and it's been hectic there. Plus, my dad's not even home - he went Up North by my Aunt Ruth's. 70 is big - but he doesn't care. That's OK - we'll make up for it the next time I'm in town. 'Cause I care. Happy Birthday, Dad.
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