My poor father, there have been quite a few people who thought that he wasn’t my father because of my tendency to call him Bill Bob. It began as Billy Bob Joe Joe when I was little. I don’t know where it came from originally but I have called him that for years. Recently someone asked my mother about Bob and she was momentarily truly confused. Today my dear dad turns another year older. He is a storyteller, a Macgyverizer, a handyman, a talker, and a funny man. Here is too many more years!