The eleventh anniversary of Domani Dave occurred last month.

I like ‘11’.  It’s not that metric ’10’ decimal prissiness, and it’s not a dozen ’12’ cookies, months-in-the-year, either.  A nice off-balance number.

The present post is actually before your eyes entirely so that I can claim at the last possible moment, anal retentively, that I have not missed posting a single month throughout those eleven years.

Here is my most recent ‘portrait’, taken to immortalize my sustained twelve-week COVID lockdown hair.  I turned 70 January 20, 2017, the day Donald Trump was inaugurated POTUS.

It’s been a tough four years.

Also included, your Domani Dave host at his fifth birthday party, January 20, 1952.  I recently extracted this image from a small clutch of prints I spirited away from the family trove.  Fain deny you have never seen a more precious child.

It’s been a tough 69 years.