Meant to post this on the 6 September (my Dad’s birthday), but got busy and distracted….
My dad spent the last few months of his life at an assisted living facility above a brew pub.
Yes, only Johnny Moran would agree to not go gentle into that good night above a damn brew pub. It was a pretty good pub, though: tasty chips, and the beer not half bad.
My father died on 14 March 2013.
On 17 March 2013, on a day when we were waking our Dad, a cousin and a sister of mine “borrowed” (some might say “stole,” but why quibble?) this sign, which I now have in my possession.
Here’s to you, Da; and, as always, no green beers.