Happiest birthday to my father! He's one of the weirdest and most wonderful human beings I know, and the reason that our house was always filled with music and flowers while I was busy growing up [well, the flowers were always for my mom, but he was the one who grew them!]. My childhood led me to believe that it was perfectly normal to wake up to piano in the morning and fall asleep to harp at night, and that it is easy to grow 70 varieties of roses in a tiny city backyard. Not normal? Just me, then? Thanks, Dad, and happy birthday!