Birthday wishes and a eulogy

The birthday boy is the one on the left.

OK, so this is a day late, but I was out of pocket all day for reasons that will hopefully soon be apparent. First, make sure you check out the sports commentary here. Click early and often.

Anyway, Will Faour had his 11th birthday yesterday. He is well on his way to being the smartest person in the family.

The kid has a great sense of humor, is a pretty good poker player and is an absolute beast on Roblox.

He's also a pretty good indication I am officially old.

Regardless, happy birthday little man. I wanted to say something nice before you become a teen-ager and start hating me. But you are a great little dude and I have the best son in the world.

(And the best daughter, in case you are reading, Katie).

------------------------------------------------

I have decided that I should fake my own death. Besides getting a Wikipedia page, I will be a much bigger star in death. After all, Michael Jackson is bigger than ever. Steve McNair is being hailed from all corners. Forget one's penchant for (censored) and the circumstances around the other's death; look at all the nice -- if fictitious --- things that were said about both in their respective eulogies.

I mean, really; think about all the exaggerations people could use on my behalf:

-- Fred redefined journalism and was at the forefront of the multimedia explosion.

-- Fred helped launch the careers of many of the biggest stars in sports journalism.

-- He took the blog concept to a new level.

-- He invented anti-twittering.

-- He dressed up like Batgirl. (Who doesn't?)

-- He was a kind, warm, loving person who went out of his way to take care of others.

(Hey, do you really buy all that BS about Michael Jackson? If that stuff is true, I can be kind, warm and loving)

-- Thanks to Fred, the career of Sparkles the Evil Clown was rejuvenated, and he went on to be an international superstar.

-- Fred was personally responsible for improving international relations, befriending many Canadians.

See how death makes you look like a superstar?

My blog postings will suddenly be popular. People will scramble to find old short stories. Like Michael, they will forget my screwups.

I will become a legend, forever remembered and praised for being better than I was.

Elvis Presley. Michael Jackson. Uncle Freddy?

Meanwhile, I will be hiding out in Guam under the name Fareed Hadid. Raking in royalties. Enjoying my fame.

Playing golf with Michael and Elvis.

Then again, they don't have football in Guam. Probably no poker. Likely no Canadians.

Guess I will have to settle for being unsuccessful, boring and alive after all.

And still no Wikipedia page.