From my own point of view (this being my own blog) a tender, sweet baby survived to become a tall, strong man. I still remember how it felt to hold that baby Marty, how bright he always was, and funny, and considerate.
The painting behind is of me, Kirby and Marty, sitting in a meadow east of Taos, when Marty was a baby. It was taken Wednesday night, his last night of being 20 years old:
This afternoon Marty, Ashlee and three other friends are going to Las Vegas, Nevada for three or four days, to celebrate his birthday.