Thanks to those of you who could NOT attend my 60th birthday party yesterday. I don’t think we could have managed the crowds after the lead singer from Ghost Radio showed up.
We had off duty police, fire and medical personnel on scene. My insurance agent even came by to check on damages to the home. He brought his current wife; a lovely, intelligent woman. Other executives and media personalities brought their trophy spouses and guests flew in from as far away as France, Hawaii and Florida.
Appetizers were prepared by an Italian chef. Wine flowed from around the world. Conversations were lively and at one point there was topless swimming in the back yard.
We were one Indian Chief short of the Village People. The lead singer from Ghost Radio offered to play the Indian but we couldn’t reach an agreement with his agent before he had to leave for another gig. My sister said the roads back to Denver were jammed afterward, but I’m not sure that’s entirely my fault.
My deepest thanks and love to everyone at Toe Tag Winery for throwing—and cleaning up after—this epic bash. Not many companies have the clout to book the Olympics for their corporate parties. I was impressed.
But then, I’ve been impressed with these people for as long as I’ve known them. There are few equal—and none better—than my family.
Unfortunately, the Queen was unable to attend.