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JD n books.jpgToday, December 20 here in 2016 my dad turns 90.

Ninety frikken years old! That’s crazy! And kinda really great too, of course.

So I thought I’d showcase some pix of the old guy.

He’s dedicated much of his life to the doing and teaching of art. I admire that. And I’m JD at WHEEL STDNTS.jpgproud of him for it.

So along with that and in the general interest of longevity and of his making it that long here on planet Earth and what he’s weathered (in the last 15 years: a heart attack, broken hips, a minor stroke and this year a major one, which he unbelievably bounced substantially back from… to say nothing of also living through Nazi bombing of England in WW-II & a harsh Catholic school education, his own stint in the army immediately after the war ended, decades of the vagueries of art sales, a black widow bite and the ups and downs of almost a century of temper tantrums and human rights rollbacks and degradations by political conservatives & the intolerant on both sides of the pond)–I offer up a WooHoo! and a happy birthday to him, born lo those many years ago on December 20, 1926.

Now for the nifty pix

The earliest picture I have of him, he was 13 when it was taken, visting, apparently, Shakespeare’s hometown. The girl to his left (on the right of the pic) is his older sister Winifred (she passed away about almost a year ago).


Seven years later, he was in the British Army, stationed in Egypt; he’s the tall one.


This is how I best remember him (and had the best interactions with him).



But…we do all age, of course, and this is a more recent shot, from a few years ago, taken by my nephew.

Happy personal anniverary dude!


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More Views of the Blogger’s Dad…

Here are more of the pix my sister sent me in December of our dad in his younger days; I’d never seen what the guy looked like before the age of 50 until I saw these. Good fun!

So the two pictures for today include my favorite, and it’s this one, taken at Ismaalia, Egypt in 1946 (my old man is old, indeed, born 1926). He was drafted during WW II, but the war ended just as he was completing his training to be a Royal Marine Commando — he’s from England, too — so he luckily missed the whole combat thing, and served as part of the British occupying forces in Egypt and in areas that are now Lybia.

He’s the tall one.

What you’re seeing here is a guy — as far as I can figure — coming in to his own and realizing the Mediterranean and whole lot more — offered a better life than Liverpool (and England’s greyness); since there was no combat he got to be arts and crafts director for his regiment and take his fellow troops to check out “local art”, like, say, ohhh, the Pyramids of Ghiza! and a little something called, The Sphinx!

This next one is then after his return to Liverpool, where he’d promptly enrolled in art school (Liverpool College of the Arts). I imagine he saw art school as his ticket out of the drabness of Liverpool — as indeed it was.

More later!


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