Happy Birthday

To my father. He turned 62 today. To celebrate, I'm sure he worked out this morning, had a light breakfast and settled in to read the Sunday newspaper. I hope he enjoyed it all.

On a day like today, the absence and the distance are a bit more acute. The Houston Rockets' Game 7 showdown with the Lakers this afternoon reminds me that I watched almost every significant sporting event of my childhood with my father.

And with the Rockets again heading into L.A. with hopes of closing out an improbable playoff victory, I'm taken back to a night 23 years ago when I was sprawled across my parents' bed and sowing the seeds for a serious basketball jones.

Robert Reid and Ralph Sampson - the other Twin Tower - will always be heroes in my household. But my father will always come first - and it's not even close:



I'll never forget the sweet, sweet sight of Michael Cooper flopping onto the ground at the buzzer. It makes up for what happened in Boston in the Finals. Sort of.

Also, I'm remiss if I didn't note the Stevie Wonder turned 59 last week. This probably deserved its own post. But to make it up, I have to provide a link to the latest, can't-get-this-out-of-my-head single from Raphael Saadiq, which features some beautiful harmonica from Stevie. Enjoy.