This weekend, Gretchen had a big damn day. She turned 60 years old (!!!!!) this weekend, which though factually accurate, seems so surreal and bizarre that it’s hard to accept as real. I mean look at her!

She’s still just as smoking hot as when I met her!

Heh. Forgive me if it seems like I was just objectifying. I kind of was, but I mean well. I love my wife, and for far many more reasons than just her natural beauty. 😉 Among many zillions of great things I admire and love about her include her massive great strength, mega-IQ, shared love of reading and writing, huge work ethic, knowledge of so much, ability to kick the shit out of anyone on Jeopardy (though she refuses to try out and become rich and famous as well as any other rich and famous gigs I try to force on her because she doesn’t want to betray her total social shyness tendencies). She’s an artist in the kitchen, loves animals more than most anyone I’ve ever met (she’s the “cat whisperer”), and in fact the animals love her back, because every damn beast in town comes to our back deck for some food and lovin’ from her no matter how feral they are. It’s a sight to behold.

I’m also glad that she puts up with me and my bad habit of inadvertently, constantly breaking out into two hour (free!) post-grad seminars on any millions of things few would care about (at least she likes to be exposed to new things no matter how nerdy or useless-seeming). The poor woman has had to sit through countless hours of me droning on about myriad geopolitical events, commentary on writing and publishing, national defense, history of all types and eras, archeology, quantum field theory, intel, counterintel, foreign policy, counseling strategies, research methods, NIH studies, building nuclear centrifuges, Beat writers, history of fascism with renewed emphasis on traditionalism, political philosophy, EW, suppressed historical events (and tragedies), nuclear proliferation, neuroscience, postmodern theory, issues with Abrahamic monotheistic religions, and on and on and My God! Not only has she not killed me yet but she sits there either patiently or feigning patience (the latter) and after a few hours will let me know she’s got to go to work now, etc., and while I’ve had a hard time learning how to shut up, she’s remained married to me! She deserves to be sainted for that alone.

And I just now wrote, droning on and on much like I blab on and on such as I was just describing so I’ll quit now and just say, “Gretchen, Happy 60th, Baby! Can’t wait (actually I can wait a very long time now that I think of it…) to give you props for your 70th.” Hah! I love you!

— Scott