True enough that Debbie makes a mean prime rib, but does it really match up to the cuisine pictured above? Though she is the host with the most, it'll be a long time before she's in the same league as the My Life is Over Cafe. And why did I have this photo on file?--for a moment such as this, because here at Birch Wisdom we are prepared for any and every eventuality. My mother was about to dig in to the fried shrimp, but I'm sure she didn't enjoy it as much as I did the $85 slab of beef served at Chez Debbie et Ricard. Hold on, that slab of beef was originally $85 until the father of my beautiful wife had the butcher shave off $25 worth.

One more thing: somehow I failed to mention that my Jessie Sweet turned 18 yesterday. Every time I think of her getting ready to leave home I think I'm going to cry. The tears, for the record, would be of the bittersweet variety. I'll miss her something terrible, but how can I not be proud?

OK, enough of the Hallmark stuff; I've got to get back to my meaningless poems.