On a personal note...

My grandfather passed away this week, and I'm only sad because I won't see him again.

He lived to a ripe-old 94, and he really lived them except for the last few weeks.

It was a classic American story of an immigrant coming from Italy and working hard as a carpenter to earn enough and bring his family over. Working hard, so his kids could have a better life. They worked hard, so their kids could have a better life. Now those kids are starting to have children, and so the seeds he planted are still thriving.

I don't remember a time when he didn't seem really old already, but I've got so many great memories and learned a lot about life from the little guy. (Lots of shrinking over the years...)

Salute, Nonno Pasquale! I raise my glass to you!

Like when I asked him how many glasses of wine he had, and he replied:

"Just one, but I keep filling it up."