Thirty-One, But Not Done

Friday, April 1st was my 31st Birthday. Technically speaking, dummies aren't born; they are carved, created, sculpted, or assembled, but for the sake of this blog, I'm sticking to "born".

If you still want to split hairs, the date--April 1, may not be entirely accurate. At some point in late March, 1980 I was probably completed and shipped. By the time I arrived, it was the first week in April. Dave officially designated my "birthdate" as April 1st to match the date he officially started his ventriloquism performance business a few years earlier. His bright slogan, "Established April 1st; proving any fool can start a business" still seems about right to me.

Dave likes to remind me that without his bright ideas, I wouldn't exist, but I still think I owe my existence to the real guy that created me. He took a bunch of Dave's doodlings and whatever the kid told him over the telephone, and came up with my handsome, sexy self.

So, during my birthday week, I say thanks to Finis Robinson(1908-2001)the architect of my existence and for all practical purposes, my "Dad". A few years before Finis died, I made a trip back to my birthplace in Zephyrhills, Florida for one last time to see Finis and have some "work" done on my face. You can't keep this youthful appearance in show business without the occasional application of Spackle and paint. Shortly thereafter, Finis closed shop and later went to that big woodworking shop in the sky or wherever you guys go when your strings break.

So, thanks again "Dear Friend Finis", for putting me together so well that I've lasted this long. I'm 31, but I'm far from done. And you can quote me on that.