There’s little doubt I’ve lived a charmed life for which I’m grateful.

Mostly it’s been real good.
And the few bad things weren’t go to jail material.

I’ve had eight different careers which should give you some idea of how long I have been working.
Life has not been boring.

I know a lot of stuff, most of it worthless.
But I’m fun to have at a party after a beer or two.

Over the years I’ve been honored to be the recipient of a number of awards.

Some because I showed up sober and fit for work.
Some because I screwed up and actually did a good job.
Some because I was just standing around when they were handed out.

Regardless, all are appreciated and a few were suitable for framing.

They went on my I Love Me wall.

Everyone should have one.

Whenever you’re feeling worthless and ugly, which I’m sure is rare, cruise by all that stuff hanging on the wall and instantly feel wonderful again.

But back to me…

Friday a government agency presented me with the best yet.

I’m the only one in the State of Hawaii to have been given this particular one.

Truly one-in-a-million.
How many can say that?

It’s not on my wall but it goes with me almost everywhere to proclaim my specialness to the world at large.

The wife says it suits me perfectly.
Apparently the government agrees.
Is this great or what?

I’ve come to terms with my age.
At least for this week.

I’ve even decided there’s a few good things about our elder years.

Something for you to look forward to.

Write these in your diary and then look at them in a bunch of years.

I generally give less of a damn about what people think of me.
A skill I wish I had in my 20’s when some lady turned me down for a dance at the local Friday night hangout.

9:00 pm has become a socially acceptable bedtime.

Gossip bothers me way less now.
I still like to hear the dirt on people though.

I don’t feel the need to join every single new social media network.
However, people can join this blog if they want too.

All my friends are just as tired as I am.

I have no problem telling people to go jump in a lake if they make me grumpy.

Getting ready now takes less than 5 minutes because I wear what’s comfortable and not too dirty.

If I have a crush on someone, I just tell them.
They like to hear it because they think I’m harmless.

Sadly I admit they are probably right.

I ponder my late teens and wonder what the hell was I thinking.

Vacations don’t have to involve any plans besides naps.

I’ve learned to take everything a lot less personally.

I guess that’s why us old folks are considered grumpy.

I don’t care.

The wife can be an incredibly cruel person.
One of the worst.

Sometimes I wonder how I could have missed her faults when we first met.

After all these years I thought I knew how to get what I wanted from her.

The woman’s a constant surprise.

Divorce is out of the question.

What lawyer would take a case built around…Dobash Cake?

Share my pain while I explain how she broke my spirit and sent me to the back room, alone and crushed.

The kids come over (usually) every other weekend.

It’s the only time I get to eat high-class because she goes all out for them.

She cooks up a storm and it’s just wonderful.

Outside of putting them to work fixing things, a great dinner is the best reason for kids.

Then it’s back to leftovers and stuff made with chicken.

One set of kids were busy Saturday but the other set showed up at Restaurante Harrington.

The little lady made a provisioning run for dinner and returns with lots of various stuff including…the biggest Dobash cake I have ever seen.

It’s important to understand I love Dobash more than anything, except maybe for my dog that died last year.

To be in the same area with a Dobash is like a 16 year-old with raging hormones in the same room as the most desirable woman in the world.

Not that I remember how that is.

The government won’t admit it – but it belongs at the top of the food pyramid and is a necessary item for healthy living.

I looked at this thing taking up half the kitchen counter.

The aroma of chocolate Dobash made my head swim with desire and anticipation.

Did I mention it was really big?

A small piece wouldn’t be missed and someone needs to test it.
Wouldn’t want the kids to get sick.

I circled around it several times weighing the advantage of a bite of lovely Dobash cake verses the pain if I get caught stealing.

Being forthright, I decided to actually ask rather than steal a piece.
Anyway, that would be hard to hide.

I love it when a plan comes together.

So, batting my eyelashes and looking as cute as I could I said to her, “That’s a big cake. How about just a small taste?”

The heavens opened up and the wrath of the wife poured forth.

“It’s for desert. You stay away from it!”

In other words, go away.

Which I did, until dinner where the cake awaited those that ate all their vegetables.

Finally, six long hours after she brought it home – the moment arrived.

It was crap.

It came from Zippys Napoleon Bakery and it had just one layer.

That’s not a Dobash cake.

A real Dobash cake has two layers with a ton of chocolate pudding type stuff in the middle.

Every bite is supposed to have chocolate yummy stuff overwhelming your brain cells.

This was nothing more than a big, flat cupcake with a very thin layer of frosting.

Zippys has been letting me down a lot lately.

The wife and I made up – she was only looking out for me, wonderful person she is.

But Zippys should know it’s not a good idea to make me grumpy.

The war is on.

UPDATE: The wife says. “Your blog is wrong.”

I never knew she read it – I need to start being careful.

Anyway, she says the Dobash came from Sam’s Club, not Zippys.

Technically she’s right and I bow to her innate sense of fair play and accuracy.

Napoleon’s Bakery is owned by Zippys.

It sell cakes and pies in Sam’s Club and probably Costco too.

So it made a crappy one-layer Dobash for Sam’s Club.

I think it made it with one layer so it didn’t have to put the yummy, chocolate goodness in the middle and could sell it cheaper.

The same thing Zippys did to the Chef Salad I used to buy before they cut back on the good stuff.

That’s what I think and I think I’m right.

No matter where it came from, it was still crappy and I’m still grumpy at Zippys.