Our two sons are fabulous. We don’t take credit, just like we wouldn’t want to take blame if they were not so great. They are funny and smart and thoughtful. In fact, their only imperfection is that they don’t live nearby.

Normally, I wouldn’t single one out, but since these are dismal times, I am compelled to relate part of our phone conversation with our younger son Jeremy today because he made us laugh. He told us that he was on his way to Alexandria, Virginia for a business appointment. I told him that that’s where his one-time friend Margaret lives with her husband and their son Colby. Jeremy rode on a real fire engine with Margaret in a Fourth of July Parade about thirty years ago, but probably hasn’t seen her since. I suggested that I call her to see if she could meet up with him. He tells me where he will be, if she wants to stop by. “Tell her, I’m the guy with the beard.”

“Beard?”I ask. “Why?” His answer follows. “Well, every March 1^st, I start a beard. I do it because every time I shave off my beard, people tell me I look younger. On March 24th I shave it off. Since that’s my birthday, I can be sure that people will always tell me I look younger.”

Not a bad idea.