This was a really super Father’s Day for me and it’s all because of my terrific daughter Tracee Porter. She drove all the way from Chicago down here, to the excitement capital of the world, Dayton, Ohio, to spend a long weekend with us. What a kid.
Somewhere in there she invited some company over — my old pal Debbie (then) Cruse — whom I met in Piqua in 1971 right after my time in the US Army — and Debbie’s daughter Beth and granddaughter Lucy. Debbie was (is) Tracee’s mom’s best pal and a sweetheart to us all. All three beautiful and adorable babes, as is my amazing Tracee of course. We had a hell of a good time, lots of bad jokes and a few war stories, fueled by pizza and possibly some amount of wine. And bourbon. And rum. Sure. Why not? It’s Father’s Day, right?
My wife Diane was her usual bubbly and chatty self, the real star of the show, zooming around our place in her wheelchair and entertaining the whole group until it was time to wrap up the party and see our three guests to their car. Great fun.
Tracee was here through Monday and along the way she insisted on getting me a new iPhone and this neato MacBook Air laptop. Yow! We had a lovely dinner out and then Monday evening she blasted off for the Windy City. Doing well up there, too, with a tremendous new job that looks like a huge step forward for her. Go girl!
About the Best. Daughter. Ever.