A Birthday Blab

And now, on the anniversary of his birth, we move on to gaze upon the bust of one, Travis Casebolt. So many legends of this man abound, and so many of them are false; but our conscious thoughts are instantly drawn to this one question: how did one of such a family lineage achieve what none before or after have done? How has he succeeded where all others, man and woman alike, have failed miserably, as noble as their endeavors were? What tireless training was undoubtedly embraced with vigor and undying emotion? How... how did he do it? How did he grow facial hair? Yes, this question has long haunted generations of Casebolts since stubble first appeared on Travis' chubby cheeks. (we estimate this at the age of two) However, as intriguing as this question is, it is not the only story that has been passed down. There are tall tales of this short man, years ago wearing a worn cowboy hat and fake beard (at least we hope so), squeezing into jeans that most storks would shy away from, and singing countless ballads under his pen name, Pot-bellied Pete. And yes, a pot-belly would miraculously appear! There is so much more to say on the subject, but time does not permit. Yes we could dwell on his athletic abilities and achievements, his quick wit, and his ways with pencil and paper. On his uncanny ability to entertain and play with his younger siblings, causing them much joy and admiration. Yes we could dwell on how the women seemed to fall at his feet like flies on a beached whale. Yes we could dwell on these, but we won't, because we don't have the time and because we don't want to. However, as we leave this bronze image of one so beastly, be inspired by this one fact. Though your heritage may forbid it, it may not deny you the ability to grow facial hair. So as you pass by this molded image, do not leave without being inspired, and not without saying, "Happy Birthday!" Now, follow me to our next and similiar exhibit: the dawning of the caveman...