Two Guys From Brooklyn

Me, Tim, John and Grandpa Ben

At the Father's Day brunch, Westsiders and a few stray Valley folk sat on well-bolted folding chairs in my bro's backyard.  Brunchers ate kugel transported without incident from Sherman Oaks, bagels and other yummies.   Hot topics included "Rock of Ages" (one enthusiastic thumbs up, two thumbs down), WWII, season finales and a hellish car ride home from Santa Cruz.  Both grandpas received out-of-print books about Brooklyn, a magical place they roamed, unsupervised, as kids.  There was the annual croquet game on the front lawn, free of rules, and massive quantities of dessert.  And one more thing.  Laughter.

Hubby and his dad, Grandpa Skippy