How I Met Your Mother

Dear Kaitlyn:

I know that by the time you're actually able to read blogs (more like, by the time I let you use the computer on your own), this one will probably be long gone. Either that or dear old dad has made a ton of money from this little venture and you're so mad at me for writing about your life that you don't care to read what I have to say. Let's hope it's the latter. That way you can at least love me for my money.

Today, I bring you back eight and a half years. Dear old dad was prepping for a day of hanging out with friends down in Asbury Park (which, by the time you read this, might be nothing more than a retirement village on the Jersey Shore. What a waste). You see, he was heading down to the Stone Pony to see a concert that, rumor had it, was going to be crashed by Bruce.

After a couple hours at the Pony, Daddy and his group of friends left for greener (i.e., younger) pastures. They finally made their way to Martell's Tiki Bar, where the crowd was a little less grey. It was about 5 p.m. and the band that night wasn't scheduled to start until 8 or so, which gave Daddy and his friends plenty of time to, um, catch up with some friends. You don't know these friends, Kaitlyn, because they are Daddy's friends. Not yours. Remember that.

After a couple of hours with his friends (not to mention a certain former U.S. Representative who bought Daddy a couple rounds), one of Daddy's friends got a brilliant (to him) idea to get Daddy to sing with the band.

For some reason, the band leader totally agreed to let Daddy jump on stage and sing with the 12-person band (with full brass section, mind you). With about five or six doses of liquid courage in his system (again, Daddy's friend, not yours Kaitlyn), Daddy made his way to the stage when called on by the band leader.

The band leader asked Daddy if he was ready for this, which Daddy wasn't. But once the music started, Daddy did a Stella. Little did the band leader know that Daddy was going to go all Ann Curry on him.*

It worked though, as the crowd (which at this point looked double its size thanks to Daddy's liquid courage) was cheering like crazy, including this one little hottie who had made her way to the front of the stage. Soon the song was over and Daddy was heading off stage, being patted on the back and given high-fives from people. That one little hottie made her way over to Daddy and started gushing over him like Daddy was a rock star. Daddy even got her phone number.

And it's a good thing he did, Kaitlyn, considering Daddy called that little hottie a couple days later. And a couple days after that, they went on their first date. And a couple days after that, Daddy got pneumonia and couldn't go to the Aerosmith concert, which, by the way, that little hottie had tickets to, as well. But that's OK, because a couple days later, that little hottie brought some soup to your sick Daddy and told him all about the concert.

Eight and a half years later, that little hottie is still a little hottie. And that, my dear Kaitlyn, is How I Met Your Mother. Happy Anniversary, you little hottie.

Oh yeah, and Bruce did wind up showing at The Stone Pony that year. And Daddy missed him. And he's glad he did.

*Go all Ann Curry (v): to take over a production by throwing himself/herself in front of the lead talent, whether warranted or not