Is It Really the Big Dog’s Birthday?
So here it is again.....another birthday for yours truly. It's funny how the excitement of having your birthday wanes as you get older. Oh, I am glad to have one again because, as you know, the alternative is not good as I have unfortunately found out with several of my close friends lately.
As a kid I couldn't wait for the birthday to arrive to celebrate because it was my special day, but in reality it wasn't and still isn't. Oh, we all celebrate on our birthdate, but the real people who should have been celebrating my birthdays over the years were my parents. They created this day for me and who was I to expect a present from them? It just doesn't seem right.
So I can only imagine how my parents felt on the day I was born. Oh, the happiness and the joy of this 7 pound 9 ounce arrival at 5:10 p.m. on October 26, 1953 of little Jeffrey Alan Michael Dorsey (now there's a little something I bet you didn't know about me) at Evangelical Deaconess Hospital in Brooklyn, New York.
So happy birthday Mom & Dad. I am sure you set some high expectations for me in my life. You never let me down and I only hope I didn't let you down. Now, can I have a piece of some of my, I mean your, cake?
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