Ode to Daddy on His 60th Birthday

There are so many things I could say about my Dad, but here are just 60 you should know as we celebrate his 60 years of life today:

1. He loves social media—including Facebook and Twitter—and has high hopes of being a famous blogger one day. The man is nothing if not consistent from week to week. (Check him out.)
2. He likes numbers and calculations and predictions regarding the first two items mentioned, including but not limited to mileage, budgets, ETAs.
3. He doesn’t particularly like wearing lots of clothing. In another life, he was definitely meant to live in a nudist colony or pre-sin Garden of Eden. TMI? Ahhh, yes, but it’s the truth.
4. He’s a living, breathing countdown clock to the next thing in life (e.g. how many days until I fly back home, how many hours until we reach grandma’s house, how many years until he can fully retire).
5. He calls the refrigerator an “icebox,” says pants are “britches,” and will only refer to underwear as “drawers.” Brotha was raised in the south for sure.
6. He pronounces washer as “warsher,” fork as “fark,” and exercise as “extercise.” And my personal favorite—any word that begins with “chi” comes out sounding like “shi.” Chicken is shicken, chitlins is…you get the point.
7. He can play one song on the guitar. One song—“Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.” (I’d like to see you rock that one in a church service on Sunday, Pastor.)
8. He hates leftover green beans. And isn’t much of a fan of pasta and sour kraut.
9. He thinks my mom’s cooking is the next best thing to sliced bread. Because she makes her own bread. And it’s the best bread he’s ever tasted. He practically refuses to eat anywhere but in her kitchen. And he’s pretty much spot on.
10. He has no sense of fashion whatsoever. For instance, when mowing the lawn, he rocks a sweatband while wearing gargantuan old-school headphones while sporting socks that come up to his kneecaps. Boom. And he’s proud of it.
11. When he can’t remember the name of something, he substitutes words that sound similar (e.g. Asperger’s Disease becomes Asparagus Disease, quinine becomes quinoa). He feels it still does the job for getting his point across.
12. Tells people he has “leprosy” in his feet. What he really means is “neuropathy.” (See #10.) He’s special.
13. He loves God’s Word with every fiber of his being. Lives, breathes, eats, digests, and regurgitates it. And can quote it back to you like a freaking encyclopedia.
14. He loves pouring life, hope, encouragement, wisdom, character, truth, and integrity, etc. into the pastors he works with each week. And 88% of that happens in his corner office at the local Braum’s over a cup of coffee.
15. When I’m home for a visit, he likes to go on long walks with me through the neighborhood or lay down next to me for an hour or so when I crawl into bed at night—just to laugh and talk about life. Precious memories.
16. He’s literally my pup’s favorite human in the world. She would fight to the death for that man. He has her hook, line, and sinker.
17. He sends me random text messages and voicemails every week saying he loves me, he thinks I’m beautiful, and he’s praying for me. See why I’m still waiting for the right man to come along? It takes a lot to live up to what I’m used to.
18. Speaking of praying, he’s my biggest prayer warrior (next to my mom). He intercedes for me every day—multiple times a day. When I was in high school, I woke up in the middle of the night to find him kneeling next to my bed, praying for me and calling out to the Lord on my behalf. That’s a good daddy right there.
19. He’s repeated this mantra to me my entire life: “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way, to be happy in Jesus.” Now, it’s stuck.
20. He memorized scripture with me when I was young. The one I remember best is Isaiah 41:10. We’d quote it back and forth to each other over and over: “Fear not, for I am with you. Don’t be afraid because I’m your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
21. He can grow a full-bodied mustache and sideburns to top them all (and 89% of the time does it just to irritate the fire out of my mom because he knows she hates it).
22. He still likes to flirt with my mom after 37 years of marriage—and even when we’re not there to see it in person (trust me, I know this because I’ve been the victim of a tragic butt dial where I heard every detail of one such flirtatious encounter).
23. He spends an inordinate amount of time in his “man cave” every evening participating in a variety of activities: exercising, e-mailing, balancing his budget, and watching reruns of Andy Griffith, Three’s Company, and Bonanza.
24. He lives in the black or white, yes or no, right or wrong, one or the other perspective of life. There aren’t too many gray areas with this guy.
25. He’d do anything—and I mean anything—for his family.
26. He likes to consider himself tech savvy and stays up-to-date on the latest gadgets. We’re working on that.
27. He used to pick my brother and me up from school, take us home, and make us after-school snacks in the Fry Daddy. One plate was covered in tator tots and another was layered with chicken nuggets. And the third plate was for dipping—half ketchup and half honey. Needless to say, that’s also the same year my mom went back to work full-time.
28. He can get pretty animated and like to embarrass the women in the family at times—and I secretly love every single minute of it.
29. He likes to be intricately involved in my life—hearing the details of my day, spending time in my world, being friends with my friends. Just for that, he gets a call from me every single day between 5:00 and 6:00 p.m. for a daily update.
30. He has the mannerisms and stubbornness of his daddy and the kind, gentle, sweet spirit of his mama.
31. He doesn’t like to hem-haw around on the phone for too long. Never has. Never will.
32. He says he doesn’t care, but either gets mad or gets his feelings hurt when he loses in family card and domino games. I think it’s all a show.
33. He’s the greatest encourager known to man. He always knows the right thing to say to lift your spirits. And if he can’t think of anything, he’ll make a few other suggestions. (Bonus: he’s a suggester.) 
34. He has faith the size of Texas times 74. He’s got faith for every person in our family, and then some. It completely oozes out of him.
35. He likes to walk on the treadmill in his Man Cave wearing nothing but tightey-whiteys and tennis shoes. That’s right—you heard me correctly. (Told you he didn’t like clothes.) Thank goodness my mom is the only one who ever witnesses this.
36. He can lose weight faster than any human being I’ve ever seen.
37. He’s freakishly wise and refreshingly genuine—all the time.
38. He would sign up for the Hotter than Hell Bike Race if it weren’t in August and…well, hotter than hell. He talks about doing it every year. (Just do it already, Dad!)
39. On that note, he likes to hop on his bike and ride for miles and miles down country roads to practice for the Hotter than Hell Bike Race he’s never going to sign up for.
40. He’s the fastest eater I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure he even breathes in between bites. He’s practically a magician. He’s all, “Now you see it. Now you don’t!”
41. He loves having his family home for the holidays. Like l-o-v-e-s it.
42. He’s fascinated by history—so much so that he’s contacted random people all over the U.S. as he’s researched our genealogy and constructed our family tree, which now contains information of a lineage that goes back into the 1400s.
43. He likes to stop and read all the historical markers on roadtrips.
44. He has the best smile and laugh of anyone I know. Ever.
45. He’d rather lie in a pile of slithering snakes and stinging scorpions than ever be caught dead rooting for the Longhorns. He’s a Sooner fan for life. Boomer!
46. He taught my brother and I how to build a fort, dig a hole, light a fire, etc. when we were kids. If the world falls apart, we could probably solidly survive on our own because of him.
47. On family vacations when I was a kid, you could always pick him out of a crowd because he was carrying the 87-pound monster of a camcorder, recording every detail of the trip. I’m glad he did because a few years ago, he took all those ancient VHS tapes, created a DVD library of my childhood, and gave it to me for Christmas.
48. He coached my little league softball team and pee wee basketball team. And he never got upset when we lost or the time when I got the ball, dribbled it down to the wrong end of the court, and scored for the other team. He just enjoyed doing it together.
49. He can drink black coffee by the gallon. Waiters in local restaurants now see him coming and don’t even take his drink order anymore. They just set a mug and a whole pot of java in front of him and let him go to town.
50. He’s an AVID reader. You can always find him with a book in his hands.
51. He’ll drive 50 miles out of his way to save 10 cents a gallon on gas. That man loves a good deal at the pump.
52. He constantly reminisces on the good old days. He oftentimes says, “Remember the time when…”
53. He’s a little bit of a hoarder—but only in the confines of his Man Cave. He says he likes to hold on to stuff for a rainy day. (Little does he know, my mom likes to sneak in and clear out the junk every now and then. Oops.)
54. He’s passionate about collecting things—coins, baseball cards, etc. Who knows why? See #53.
55. He still likes to comb an “up” in his hair—55 years later from the time he insisted his mom style it that way.
56. He’d probably sacrifice his first-born (aka me) for a piece of chocolate sheet cake or banana split if they were the last ones on earth.
57. His ideal sleep cycle would begin by going to bed at 4:00 a.m. and finish by waking up at noon. Unfortunately, I inherited his squirrely night owl ways.
58. He dreams of living in Tennessee one day. Next door to me. On a farm. In the hills. Picking on a banjo. Sitting on his front porch. Smoking a pipe. Drinking black coffee. With his girlfriend, RaDonna, by his side. And telling passersby about Jesus.
59. He loves the gospel—getting in front of congregations of people on Sunday mornings and leading them to the Way, the Truth, and the Life. (Then, he likes to come home and immediately wash the “fellowship” off his hands.)
60. He’s seriously the best daddy in the world. I couldn’t have conjured up and created a better one if I’d tried. He’s thoughtful, kind, sacrificial, trustworthy, wise, funny, joyful, sincere, dedicated, loving, respected, loyal, encouraging, honorable, and so much more.

I love you, Daddy! Happy birthday. Now, let’s party.