Dad died today eight years ago. The only reason I bring it up is that it always reminds me of the grand irony we sometimes call life. Dad was a decorated WW II vet, a small business owner and a devout Christian, of the Episcopalian flavor. Too much so for my taste. Needless to say, until I left for college, I was drug to church every Sunday and often more than that. The irony of course, is that he died on the biggest Pagan holiday of the year, the winter Solstice. If I were ever to be categorized religiously, I would probably lean more towards Paganism than anything. Earth loving, Circadian rhythms and all that. My dad’s probably doing the Jitterbug in his grave today. He always liked the Jitterbug.