100

That's my father with the ever present pipe in his mouth. The pipe that surely contributed to his getting lung cancer and having two open heart surgeries. He made it to 74 just the same. Tough old bird. Today would have been his 100th birthday. I'm having a bit of a problem wrapping my head around that. Hard to believe I'm old enough to have a father who would have been 100 and I'm only thirty years away from that myself.

Pops was a "regular guy" like most of his generation. He was a WWII veteran, enjoyed hunting and fishing, and was a good parent to myself and my three brothers. He was a good athlete. Had a successful amateur boxing career and a couple of pro fights. He also played a bit of softball. He was a pretty decent piano player as well. He couldn't read music but played by ear. He used to jam with a couple of my guitar playing uncles at our family reunions back in the day and he played in a couple of combos later in life.

His choice of music was as would be expected from someone of his generation - big band standards and ballads from back when, Hoagy Carmichael's Stardust being one of his favorites. He was a fan of Benny Goodman and often played Moonglow in the evenings when he sat down at the piano to relax - not as well as Teddy Wilson but nothing to be ashamed of, that's for sure.

He also was a fan of Dixieland music and Pete Fountain.

That was for you Pops.

Thanks for everything you did for us boys. We all owe you plenty. For just a "regular guy" you did all right. I love you, miss you and will never forget you.