Sixty-six is a number of some significance in the recent history of America. It was, of course, the number of the "mother road," the famous Route 66 - a road that I traversed from Joplin to California in my childhood days. Many of the cars that raced up and down Route 66 did so while using Phillips 66 gasoline. And then there was the year of my high school graduation: 1966.
Today I have reached the age of sixty-six, and considering my advanced years, I feel fairly good. My plan is to push on toward seventy-six, a number associated with the birth of our nation and the trombone section of the River City marching band.
Sixty-six is also the age at which I am eligible for full social security benefits. I received a form letter from those nice folks this week telling me that my first check would arrive at the end of April. Bring it on!
My middle-aged children went together and bought me a beautiful grandfather clock for my birthday. I was truly surprised and very pleased. The chimes are so pleasant, putting me in mind of a church somewhere off in the distance. Additionally, my oldest son and his girlfriend and his son (my oldest grandchild) came over and barbecued brats and burgers. A nice time was had by all!
I'm not certain if my kids are old enough to remember the world's most famous grandfather clock - the one belonging to Captain Kangaroo. In fact, the Captain's clock was named "Grandfather Clock," and the Captain managed to rudely awaken Grandfather Clock at least once during every show. Beyond that I do not remember much about either of the old gentlemen.
I was more of a Mr. Greenjeans fan.