YOU KNOW YOU’RE GETTING OLDER WHEN… YOUR BIRTHDAY GIFTS ARE A DIAPER GENIE AND A BIB…
AND YOU HAD TO BUY THEM FOR YOURSELF!
It happened — October 2, 2022.
Funny how things work. I awakened at 2:48 a.m. Eastern Time just a few minutes ago.
At 2:48 a.m. in Columbus, Georgia a few years back, Mary Johnson Windsor gave birth to William Michael Windsor. Proud papa, Walter Michael Windsor, was a most willing participant.
Just a week before, my Mom was nine months pregnant in Hollywood, California. Dad accepted a job as General Manager of WGBA Radio in Columbus, Georgia.
Facebook just zapped the story I wrote claiming it violated Terms, so I guess I have to re-write. Grrrr. I sued Facebook in 2013 for deleting my account claiming it promoted “nudity, pornography, and solicitation of sex.” It was about corrupt judges!
I can’t keep my eyes open, so I will rewrite what Facebook eliminated. There is a brief story written years ago on BillWindsor dot com
Back to Hollywood….
Nine-month-pregnant Mom and Dad, who knew nothing about mothers and babies and childbirth, hopped into their car and drove 2,178 miles from Hollywood to Columbus, Georgia.
I was almost born in Show-Me-Where-She-Danced, Arizona when Dad hit a cow crossing the road in the wee hours of the morning.
But they made it to Columbus, and Dad checked us into the local motel.
I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance. This was very fitting since my Dad was born on a Gasless Sunday during World War I. Taxis and cars were not allowed that day, so Grandpa called an ambulance. All the ambulances were busy, so Grandma, Grandpa, and Walter-to-be were taken to the hospital in New York City in a hearse.
I got short-changed with a plain old ambulance. LOL.
We were living in a motel when Mom went into labor. Dad didn’t want his son to come home from the hospital to a motel room, so he raced out and rented a home at 2222 Buena Vista Road, Columbus, Georgia.
I was born at 2:48 a.m. on October 2, 1948. I’ve tried to keep that secret over the years, but there it is.
I feel 30 on the inside, except for Cognitive Decline, but I feel 100 on the outside since a Boise Cascade 18-wheeler hit me at 70-miles-per-hour in an accident in which I could have easily died. I can barely walk, and the corrupt judge hasn’t set a trial date. I figure Boise Cascade owes me a few million. I’ll trade in the Van Down by the River II and get a one-story house with a full-time female caregiver.
Now, I may not be 74 because my 11-year-old girl friend at Sam’s says I look 58 to her.
I’m celebrating today with THREE (3) football games — Cowboys, Cardinals, and Chiefs followed by a long-overdue evening in the Laundromat.
Headed back to bed, and I fell and couldn’t get up. I didn’t have my cane and wasn’t wearing my noisemaker and strobe light. Finally managed to get upright after another scary fall.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!#$#@!^