THE BIG FOUR OH

It's Jethro's birthday.  He'll be celebrating by recording a piano, bass and drum trio.  He'll be hunkered down at his console, twisting faders or clicking buttons or whatever the heck it is he does in the control room.  He'll be in his element and he'll be happy.

We're not going out for dinner, throwing a party, or putting an embarrassing "Lordy lordy look who's forty"  in the local paper.  Mostly he just wants to get his studio finished and get back to work.  I don't think he's really had much time to even think about turning 40.  He'd say it's just another day; it's other people who make a big deal out of it.  

Yeah, well, he is A Big Deal.  

I keep teasing him that he's starting to look more and more like his Dad.  I half expect him to open his mouth and hear a Canadianized English accent come out.  Sometimes he busts it out just for fun.  It's really starting to suit him.  Does it make sense that even though he was born in Canada, he's looking more and more English as he ages?

I have visions of John Bonham, in The Song Remains The Same, roaring down a narrow road on his chopper.  Except, Jethro, despite kind of looking like he should, does not have a chopper.  Looks damn right in a big pick up truck, though.

When I met him, almost 22 years ago, he had just turned eighteen.  He hadn't grown into his big feet yet, or his barrel of a chest.  He had the cutest face, and those tear-drop shaped green eyes that knocked me out.  

I've been there to watch him grow from teenager to young man, from boyfriend to husband and father.  When I was 16 I wasn't thinking that someday in the future, his soft dark hair would turn silver at his temples.  I didn't guess that he'd look so handsome with silver hairs and the beginnings of crow's feet around his eyes. 

(I'm so glad I stuck around to find out.)