Normally, I just write for myself.  But I realized tonight, I’m writing these for either Henry or Vivian-to-be, whichever type of offspring arrives in March.

Once March comes, they’ll learn enough about their father close-up, sure enough.

But maybe, at some future date, they’ll find these notes, maybe even find the tapes themselves, and think…

…

…

“Boy, the old man is really OLD.  Like, grew up in the 1980’s old.”

Maybe they’ll even enjoy his-or-herself-to-be.

But let’s not hope beyond reason.