Happy Birthday to Me!

My sister asked my dad this morning what year out of his ninety was the best. “All of them.” he replied.

What an honor to have my dad alive, healthy and full of life. On his ninetieth year on this earth, I’d like to share more about him. Here goes.

He is dubbed the Energizer Bunny by my mom. He literally doesn’t know the meaning of taking it easy. Sun up to sun down, he spends most of his time in the back yard. These days he is working on his garden, watering his papaya and orange trees. Also, the better half of the day pulling weeds. He hates those damn things. On hot Florida days, he enjoys a cold Bud Light. My dad will always offer you a beer, even if it’s before noon. Will you have one with me Pa? “No, it’s too early.” he’ll reply.

His day cannot start without a cup of coffee. His favorite coffee spot? McDonald’s of course (their coffee is pretty good). Over the years, I’d have coffee with him and my mom there. Sausage egg McMuffin with sheese, a senior coffee and an apple pie.

He probably would win a food eating contest. Countless times we celebrated at his restaurant. An old Ponderosa Steakhouse turned family owned buffet. He strategizes methodically. Fast all day. Arrive at buffet at 2:45pm. They put out the good stuff at 3:00. His favorite (pronounced favor-ite), shrimp and fish, with lots and lots of cocktail sauce. He proudly downs three plates of food, heaping high. Two glasses of unsweetened tea, no ice, and of course-dessert. A bowl of ice cream with three scoops. Most people would double over in pain. He heads home to work the belly ache off in, you guessed it, the back yard.

He’s out very own Mexican MacGyver. A do-it-yourselfer. Just this past weekend we found a mop rigged to long wooden poles. He used it to wash the tin roof on his house. Necessity is the mother of invention. My dad self taught himself how to be a handyman, mechanic and everything else in between. All those years pinching pennies paid off in other ways. He became a jack of all trades. There has been no project he has not conquered.

He is the life of a party, and quite the dancer. People who know him say, “Piri you were born dancing.” I couldn’t agree more. He is the first to want to hit the dance floor and the last to leave. Some of my fondest memories are watching him and my mom dance. At ninety, I get to still witness his dance moves.

He loves bonfires. Like really loves them. Each year when he trims trees in the yard he piles the branches in a huge mount so they can dry out. Then for Christmas and New Year’s he creates the biggest bonfires in the back yard. The fires get so tall and hot you’d swear the authorities would show up. He coaxes you to get closer. See! Get closer, and when you get too hot turn around. He is as cool as a cucumber, while the rest of us are suffering the equivalent of a sun burn. But we love it. Bonfires, food, beer, dancing and of course- family. He wouldn’t want it any other way.

I can’t wait to have a beer with you, to toast to your amazing life. You are the patriarch of this family. Eleven offspring. Twenty one grandchildren and twenty-nine great grandchildren. You are the American Dream to live a long and healthy life, work hard and to see your family grow.

Forever young. Forever amazing. Que suena la tambora.