60 Years Young
He used to take a kite up to St Andrews and fly it on the beach. He owned, and loved, all the Harry Potter books, and he read The Hobbit and the Lord Of The Rings for the first time when he was in his 50's (after I pestered him about it for months). He owned a set of Boomwhackers, which he took to teambuilding sessions he was running (presumably to the bemusement of his colleagues). He said it was for breaking the ice, but I suspect he just enjoyed having a muck-about with them. He loved larking about with the cats, and if he'd lived to see any grandchildren he would've had a ball with them as well. He gave anything a go, and he was very into gadgets and new technology. Despite having a posh car for many years, he took the bus to work in his last job, listening to his trusty iPod and reading. He loved every second of it, and marvelled at the iPod and how it had revolutionised the way he listened to music.
He definitely subscribed to the notion that you're as young as you feel.
I remember the day he died like it was yesterday, but one of the most vivid memories I have is of driving back from the hospital along the M8 to Edinburgh, in the dark. Although it was the 13th of November, the good people of Broxburn and Uphall hadn't yet got bored of setting off fireworks, and all I could see for miles were fireworks of every description exploding silently in different colours. In the darkest moment of my life thus far, I was fascinated by them and how pretty they looked from a distance. I watched, thinking of my dad and his next great adventure. For I think that's how he would have viewed it.
Happy Birthday Pop.