Of the many things I love about my job, standing in the booth is a little down the list. That's my brother there and we were at the Burbank Airport Marriott for an industry convention on Tuesday. Painless trip really. Flew down Monday night which took only 50 minutes. I hate flying. Not that I think the plane is going to drop out of the sky or anything its just that I'm a little more claustrophobic than most. Not that I've ever felt compelled to get up, go outside and run up and down the sidewalk screaming at the top of my lungs, it's just that the option is always in play. This can't be done on an airplane. Well at least not more than once, and sometimes that gets me freakin'. Akin to Griffs bee sting anxiety...anxiety is anxiety. Anyway, standing in the booth can get tiring on the legs. Every once in a while someone will stop by that we do business with and they will have something nice to say about our service or I'll get to meet the "voice" on the other end of the line. Which is cool. Tuesday we made some new contacts and discussed some opportunities that could come our way. Enough about that.

Yesterday I turned 41. Took the day off and rode my bike around for a while. The legs feel like crap after the Sea Otter non-sense so I kept it low and steady. Saw Carl the Ranger up on the mountain and we commiserated about what could have been. There will be a next time, so those of you wearing different colors...beware. We will drop the old Naughty(me) -n- Nice(Carl) on ya. Later I hooked up with my Mom, Dad, and two brothers and we went to the A's game. I got carded at the beer stand which was cool. She did a double take on my ID when I told her it was my birthday. She then said that I didn't look a day over 28. Which begged the question why I got carded in the first place. With that she belted into the Happy Birthday song long play version. I was that guy standing between the drunks and their next bucket of $10 beer. Not a real great place to be, but I enjoyed every moment as the lady had pipes. And I would have gotten away with all of it except for the fact that I was caught neck deep in beer by none other the Carl the Ranger's brother and fellow Pegasaurus team mate Alan. Damn. Bike racers don't like baseball. That would take some sort of hand eye coordination. Finished up the day with a fantastic dinner prepared by the wife. My kids gave me hugs, kisses and homemade birthday cards. It doesn't get any better than that. Hope you are well.

Johnny AgeFast