A Birthday Ode to the Brother Lode

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RICH!!!

My little bro, Rich, doesn't like corny stuff.

For him, HAPPY BIRTHDAY would be quite enough.

(Well, that and a win over Oregon's Ducks...

So his homies, The Trojans, don't come off like schmucks.)

With four older sisters he's pretty well-trained.

His turkeys are basted; his shrimp is deveined.

His sons are good-looking. They don't cross him, either!

(If he's pushed in one way or t'other, it's neither.)

Rich loves heavy reading and things existential.

His feeling for Frankl is near reverential.

But brains take a back seat when he plays team sports,

and he seizes the moment on basketball courts

with no glimmer of caution or self preservation...

as shown here at home, on the Newport vacation,

and at other venues not pictured or named.

Suffice it to say that his play is...untamed.

And when he gets injured, he takes off his cast,

or says it's not broken then finds out at last

that it IS. It IS broken, Rich. Leave the cast on!

But wait. I digress. Is this poem getting long?

Yes it is, but I haven't yet mentioned his wit.

I guess you could say that he's chock full of it.

And, of course, he's perceptive and sensitive too,

to say nothing of well-educated. Woo-Hoo!

This birthday guy's perfect. He's really a peach.

He lives in both Tahoe and Manhattan Beach,

has an MBA...Beamer (the SUV one)...

and is quite overprivileged, when all's said and done.

(And yet, he's still humble.) Hey, dude, we all love ya!

Hope you liked this tribute, 'cause we're thinkin' of ya.

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