Welcome to the You-Don’t-Look-a-Day-Over-59 Club!
Dude has been brother from another mutha for more years than
either of us would like to remember. When trying to pick the proper tune to
commemorate this auspicious anniversary I slaved long & hard to find the
proper song to encapsulate all the hi-jinks & hangovers, cigarettes &
corn toastees, The South Green Tavern & Francis Albert Sinatra, price
checks & proof departments, heartbreaks & hilarity, women & Woodrow
St., Corn Cribs & Chrysler New Yorkers, nicknames & nights on the town,
3 Monks & 4 Championships (BoSox & UConn), Goats in the Hatchway &
Bats in the Belfry, “PEA-nuts” & PAPER DOLL, snapshots & segues, bottles
of Jim Beam & lines from Jaws, vodka & vinyl, Elvis Presley & the
Pink Pup. You can amass a lot of memories in 40+ years, many of them high
points of my life. Some of which my delicate sensibilities preclude me from
detailing in a public forum such as this. When trying to come up with the
perfect thing to say, I can really only come up with 2 appropriate words -
actually one word repeated twice. They are:
DOYT! DOYT!
Happy birthday, Neal Phelon! Love ya, man.
Oh, one last recollection that I’m sure will make you recall
those halcyon days of yore when we met: “Clean up Aisle 6. PICKLES!”
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