A Page from Zexiv's Past: Peppermint Puppet Theatre

I apologize for not updating you with the current goings-on from this side of the world these past few days. Contrary to the many alarming rumors that have been swirling about as to my disappearance and feared demise, I am very much alive, kicking, and well. Truth is, I have simply not had much time to write, as I have been extremely busy trying to run the camp single-handedly while at the same time being in the middle of a very perplexing mystery. No, this is not about the elusive Toyanese as the summit attempt to Level Two has been put on hold for the moment. At the risk of jeopardizing my current mission, I can say nothing further at the moment except that it concerns a former high school air police cadet, octavina player, and Tintin afficionado. I will try to give further details soon, but in the meantime, until I get to the bottom of this, here is another page from Zexiv's past (note, MCPO Maurice, that it is indeed me, the camp has not been overrun by barbarians, and it is not some amateur impersonator writing this :) ...

As a child, Capt. Zexiv was a bit something out of the ordinary. He never took very well to sports, preferring instead quiet, solitary, introspective, and imaginative activities. This was a bit unusual at the time as almost everyone in the family seemed to be a natural born athlete. Zexiv's parents were both ranked class "A" players in the club tennis ladder and this interest and skill had been passed down with varying degrees of success among Zexiv's siblings, while older brother Inverbras and younger sister Crazy Lady in the Apple were both very strong competitive swimmers. Zexiv, on the other hand, was probably the worst athlete in the family. He recalls quitting summer judo lessons as a child after only a handful of sessions, explaining to his parents that "it just gives me a headache" (the falling, that is). He wasn't much of a swimmer either; in fact Inverbras observed with amusement many years later, while watching him do a lap or two in preparation for the swimming requirement of his open water scuba class, that he still looked like he was "drowning" (fortunately for Zexiv there exists a simple stroke called the backstroke and it was this stroke that he used to pass this requirement). He was slightly better in tennis and to his credit could at least hit the ball, but could never manage to control his swings, amusing the trainers and ballboys instead with frequent outbursts of frustration, whenever his balls would go over the walls. Clearly, sports and the captain were not meant for each other.

So, while Zexiv's parents played match after match and edged their way up the club rankings and Inverbras and Crazy Lady in the Apple represented their teams in competitions in Clark, Subic, and Hong Kong, and won dozens of medals, the captain kept himself busy reading book after book, playing with his GI Joe, his toy soldiers, blocks, matchboxes, and magnifying glass, taking guitar lessons, climbing trees, and riding his bike. He also tried his hand writing very, very short stories, coming up with "The Fantastic Submarine", "Fritz and the Three Wishes", and "I was a Fool in School". At school he hung around for many years with a close group of similarly minded friends, known as The Chum Family (please refer to earlier post). It was not surprising that Zexiv's parents were understandably concerned about this sickly, unathletic, quiet, and skinny kid and tried their best to get him interested in school sports but they needn't have worried as the Zexiv was enjoying himself immensely. In addition to the above interests, one particular activity which Zexiv has very fond memories of and which kept him pretty occupied during those years was playing with his large collection of hand puppets, which later became known to Zexiv and a few of his siblings as "Peppermint Puppet Theatre".

Capt. Zexiv doesn't remember exactly how and when he became interested in puppets. It could have been all the Sesame Street episodes he and his siblings used to watch when they were small. There weren't too many educational shows a child could watch in those days and Sesame Street was probably the best one then (of course the captain did manage to catch more than a few episodes of "Combat!", "Land of the Giants", and "Time Tunnel", as kids were not really restricted too much during those days; he considers these highly educational and entertaining as well). These were the days before the Muppet Show and Electric Company and the newer Sesame Street characters like Mr. Snuffaluffagus and Elmo. Zexiv remembers his puppet collection starting with three dwarf dolls his mother or father had purchased, which Zexiv's mother then converted into hand puppets by snipping off the heads and sewing on colorful puppet bodies (Zexiv's mother was and is still handy with scissors, thread, a pattern, and a sewing machine, having worked for a famous dressmaker during her younger years in New York) made of cloth, with openings for the hands and heads, into them. These came out quite well and Zexiv remembers naming two of the three dwarf puppets Otto and Franz.

The dwarf puppets provided many hours of amusement for Zexiv, and gradually, over the next few years, more puppets were added to the collection. An uncle gave Zexiv a monkey puppet - he believes this now to have been a Steiff - which quickly became his favorite. The monkey's name was Fritz and he had a rough furry brown body and head, mischievious glass eyes, and a cheerful expression. Zexiv specifically wrote "Fritz and the Three Wishes" during this time, for the monkey and the first three dwarf puppets and was proud to use it for a story writing assignment in school. Zexiv's father would also bring him home as gifts puppets from his business trips abroad, one time surprising the captain with a European hunter puppet - this particular one had a plastic green hat and face with a red beard and mustache and green and white clothes - which Zexiv promptly named "Hubert" (probably because the name sounded exotic to him at the time). Probably some of the most interesting ones came from a trip later on of Zexiv's mother to Europe. From this trip, among the gifts the captain received were a very realistic and grimy looking chimney sweep with a black top hat and a very scary looking devil with a fierce, beet-red face, white horns, and lifelike curly black hair. Other puppets were added as well until they eventually filled a fruit or canned goods box. The captain remembers bringing them out to play and putting on spontaneous puppet performances for his sisters and friends behind this long wooden table near the living room. For Zexiv, it was like a whole new magical world had been created, full of fascinating and exotic characters and creatures from different places and times and this provided an ideal outlet for his overactive imagination. It was sometime during those years that the captain came up with the name Peppermint Puppet Theatre. The captain cannot remember exactly how that name came about but thinks it might have had something to do with Christmas, as this is when Zexiv's mother would hang little candy canes on the Christmas tree. It was a collection Capt. Zexiv was truly proud and took good care of, meticulously returning each puppet to the box after every performance and storing them on a safe high shelf in his closet.

Sadly, we all move on and develop more "grown-up" interests as we grow older and this happened to Capt. Zexiv as well. The puppets were taken out of their box and played with less and less, as the captain discovered other toys such as GI Joes, air guns, and model planes. He had not forgotten his puppet collection entirely though and remembers feeling quite bad when he discovered one day that Fritz had lost a glass eye (this was fixed by Zexiv's mother, who found a similar looking substitute somewhere and sewed it back on ). On the rare times Zexiv took the puppets out of the box, it seemed to the him that Fritz now looked at him mournfully, as if remembering his little friend who used to spend countless hours directing his performances, who seemed to have suddenly outgrown him for a new bicycle and guitar. More years went by, the captain entered high school and gradually forgot about his valuable collection in the fruit or canned goods box stored in highest shelf in his closet. The captain became occupied with other hobbies and interests, discovering the Beatles, weight training, and girls, and like many young people his age, became obsessed with finding himself, being accepted by his peers, and growing up as fast as he could. Zexiv remembers how as a child at family gatherings he used to observe the adult relatives interacting in a separate long table, engaged in grown-up conversation and wonder how they could possibly be having fun, when they couldn't play with toys, like the young ones, and yet being fascinated with that seemingly far off world of adulthood and wanting desperately to be their age and be able to do anything and everything. However, growing up is a proces that takes place so slowly that you never actually notice it happening until one day when you look in the mirror and realize that you are not a kid anymore; but you also discover then that adults never actually stop playing with toys but replace them with more grown-up versions of them, such as cars, guns, stereos, and cameras.

Capt. Zexiv doesn't remember exactly when it happened but he was already well into adulthood when he learned from his mother that she had given away a large number of old toys of his and his siblings. One of them was that now forgotten dusty box of puppets from his closet. He remembers not being particularly concerned at that time, being occupied with so many other seemingly more practical matters. There are times though when rummaging through the back of a closet or a drawer, we discover an old notebook or toy from childhood, and become instantly nolstalgic for the past. It is like discovering lost treasure and we start looking for more. It was during one of those times that the captain realized what he had lost. He wonders to this day if Fritz, Franz, Otto, and Hubert are still in one piece, opening up new magical worlds and providing entertainment for some solitary and imaginative child somewhere. At times like these the thought of building a new puppet collection does cross his mind but then he realizes it will never be the same - there will never be another Peppermint Puppet Theatre ...

More on the Toyanese and a Survey of the Camp

"The Toyanese", began Capt. Zexiv, as he poured for us two steaming mugs of black Barako coffee, "are said to be a race of fearsome, warlike, and nomadic creatures. They are also believed to be nocturnal in nature, fiercely protective of territory, and avoiding contact with all outsiders. They can be found everywhere and yet nowhere ..."

I had decided to use this fine sunny spring morning to catch Zexiv in one of his rare talkative moods and try to find out what I could about these mysterious creatures, before coming out with a suitable strategy for making my way up those ridges that have intrigued me for some time now. I also wanted to make sure I knew what I was facing and not expose myself foolishly to any dangers. The captain seemed quite obliging, volunteering whatever information he had on hand; however, I did not think I was obtaining anything really useful and pressed him for more.

"Everywhere, and yet nowhere?" I asked, puzzled. "Whatever do you mean?"

"No one has ever seen a Toyanese or if so returned to tell about it", replied the captain darkly. "Of course there have always been a few tall tales and claimed sightings here and there, but nothing solidly confirmed ... all we have are incoherent ramblings by a few drunken sailors and madmen, which is really not much to go by."

My mind was racing as I recalled the early morning hours following Puff's birthday, when I had been roused suddenly from my sleep and gone out to investigate. "Mad? Me?" I thought, indignantly. I had definitely not had a drop of alcohol that night, as all that can be found in the camp at the moment is water ... and maybe one or two bottles of Tanduay Rum but no coke to go with it. And I have not had a single bottle of beer either since I last left New York (owing mostly to the steep liquor tax in this locale). Lately I hadn't quite decided what to make of my experience that night. Unsatisfied, I decided to persist with my questioning.

"They must have come from somewhere", I said. "What would make them decide to leave, strike it out in different places, and keep to themselves?"

"Legend has it they come from an unchartered land somewhere called Toyanesia", said the captain, stirring his coffee over and over in a distracted manner. "which is supposedly some rocky and inhospitable land with few natural resources of its own. As a result, they have out of necessity become very capable seafarers and wanderers, always on the lookout for new places to conquer and settle." "Of course", he clarified hastily, "This is all purely speculation as no one has actually ever formally interviewed a Toyanese".

"So the Toyanese are sort of similar to the warlike Vikings and Vandals of ages ago? Or Alaric, who pillaged and sacked Rome?" I asked excitedly.

The captain frowned. "The Vikings? What do the Vikings have to do with it? ... and Alaric?" he added a bit testily.

I paused and decided to let the subject drop for a while, pretending to concentrate on my hot cereal as the captain lapsed into another of his reflective moods.

The morning of the day we departed on our last voyage, I had conducted a survey of Camp Grayloft's bottom level, the only portion of which we have any real knowledge of so far. About the length of two football fields, and width of one, it had a few rooms, hidden nooks and crannies to one side that I had not yet been able to enter. Looking at the vast expanse around and over me, I concluded the whole site could have been some sort of huge industrial complex in the past. From what I had seen that morning however, there did not seem to be any other way of getting to the second level except through the previously mentioned ridges, which could take many hours to traverse - and definitely even longer with the essential supplies and food I would have to take along if I wanted to do a more comprensive exploration of the area. Walking down the entire length to the far side of the camp, I could actually look up to what seemed to be a ledge or cliff of some sort; I estimated this to be perhaps eight storeys or more high. Reaching the top level could probably be done with some effort, but I was more concerned with being placed in an extremely vulnerable position and being unable to defend myself effectively. Being on a lower level as compared to one's adversary generally places the former at a disadvantage, especially if one is forced to travel with light arms and has no real cover to speak of. I had a sudden flash of inspiration and decided to interrupt the captain in his thoughts.

"What if", I asked, "What if we were to temporarily dismantle the deck gun and use it to shell the second level of the camp, and provide advance cover ... thus allowing me to advance without opposition?"

The captain sighed and slowly put down his cup of coffee, his eyes closing for a brief moment before gradually opening again and staring at me in pure amazement. "Really, Stingray", he said sternly, "you surprise me. Is that the best you can think of?" What a waste of ammunition that would be, considering we don't even know what is up there or if there is anything that needs to be shelled!" "Do you really want to bring down the whole roof of the camp over our heads", he added.

"The solution is not always a direct frontal attack", he said, rising from the table. "You must think of some other way. And now I have dozen reports to write and transmit so if you'll excuse me ..."

As I watched him walk away it occurred to me it might time to consult my old comrade and expert in covert ops, communications, and surveillance, MCPO Maurice. It has been many years now since I last sought his assistance. I slowly got up and began making my way to the communications center ...

The Joys of Unclehood (or Aunthood)

One of the perks of being an uncle, and not a father, according to Capt. Zexiv, is getting to enjoy your very young relations without all the necessary responsibilities and duties that unavoidably come with the latter. As an uncle, one can actually be fooled at times into thinking your nephew or niece sees you as their best friend, and prefers your company to that of their peers (of course, this, if true, can only be good up to a certain age). One doesnt have to be overly concious about crossing the fine lines between friend, playmate, storyteller, racehorse, teacher, adviser, and figure of authority, knowing that in the event the kids tire you out, you can simply give them back to their parents and go back to whatever it was you were doing earlier (a similar analogy can be made in the difference between that of a girlfriend and a wife wherein a girlfriend can always be dropped off at her home when things are not going well and called after a couple of days, or perhaps after a week or two, whereas with a wife you must deal with whatever is going on between the both of you as you are married and go home to the same house; perhaps this is the reason why I have continued to remain a bachelor, however I digress ...).

Of course, there are many kids and parents who are undoubtedly very close and we have all heard young people claim that their mother or father is their best friend, or vice versa, but this is not the kind of friendship where both parties are on equal footing, can freely make contributions (and see them implemented), oppose decisions and policies that are not to their liking, and criticize each other. The reality is that a family can never be a real democracy while the kids are still growing up and are too young to make the best decisions for themselves (if this were the case, can you imagine what unfit soldiers we would have, if as kids they decided not to have anything to do with vegetables and ate nothing but chocolate chip cookies instead?), make ends meet, balance the budget, and so on. Capt. Zexiv remembers reading the "Circus Books" of Enid Blyton when he was younger and of a particular family in the books where the children addressed their parents by their first names, and thought it was really a quite novel and progressive idea at that time, but he has yet to actually meet a family like that. The closest to a democratic governing system that can be hoped for in a family is a form of benevolent dictatorship, at least while the kids are growing up and under the care and nurture of Mom and Dad.

Capt. Zexiv first became an uncle seven years ago, shortly before he married Puff. It was something that would change his life forever, as according to Zexiv, he had never had much experience with kids before and admitted he didn't even know how to talk to one. It also changed the concept of the family dinner forever, which henceforth became a lot less serious and more relaxed and with most of the attention focused on the little ones (one disadvantage of this, according to Zexiv, is that he would oftentimes feel like he was talking to a brick wall trying to get the attention of the other grown-ups). It was amazing though watching the kids grow from self-absorbed babies to sociable and playful individuals who can now join the entire family at the dinner table and carry out reasonably intelligent and witty conversations.

Zexiv recalls an intial experiment in babysitting his first nephew - hereupon to be referred to as "Spanky" - when he and Puff asked his Middle Sister to drop off her son at their apartment for a few hours. Both he and Puff were extremely excited with the idea of having their nephew all to themselves (although Zexiv had earlier made it clear to Middle Sister that he hoped Spanky had already "gone" before that as he "would not be expected to do any wiping"). An hour passed, everything was going really well, Spanky was smiling and laughing and making unintelligible sounds of delight, when Zexiv had this brilliant idea of using him as a subject for a portrait. He and Puff positioned the little guy on the futon and placed a Snoopy book on his hands as props. Zexiv then stepped back to adjust his camera and take the picture when the book fell and Spanky went after it ... head first! Zexiv clearly remembers his nephew's loud crying for a long time afterwards, which continued even after he had applied an icepack to his head (and even after he had cried himself to sleep). It was very embarassing for Zexiv and Puff to return him to his mother a few hours later with a big red bump on his forehead. Luckily, Spanky does not seem to have any lasting effects from the accident, even obtaining a "Little Einstein" award years later in kindergarten. He appears not to have any recollection of the incident as well, in fact appearing extremely fond and attached to his bumbling uncle and aunt.

During our recent trip to SFO I had the opportunity to observe Capt. Zexiv, Puff, and their young nephews and nieces as they played countless games of "donkey" (with countless instances of cheating by Zexiv), went "camping" in the hotel room, finished a large bag of greasy barbeque chips while watching late night cartoons until they dropped off one by one to sleep. I joined them as they took turns singing the "ma-na-ma-na" song (from Sesame Street) in the car. I was amused as I watched Capt. Zexiv teach Spanky the nuances of military stategy and warfare as they spread out their armies of plastic green toy soldiers and took turns firing a series of artillery barrages, using balloons as ammo. On earlier trips Capt. Zexiv told me they would have the traditional "horse races" or build entire airports or cities out of blocks during which Zexiv was alternatively given the nickname of "Engineer Uncle Jack" or "Construction Uncle Jack". I heard interesting tidbits of conversation between uncle and nephew as well, such as this one in the car on the way to Sausalito:

Zexiv (to Spanky): "If you could have another brother or sister, what would you prefer?" (Spanky does have one sibling, a five year old sister).

Spanky: "A brother ... I really wish I could have a little brother".

Zexiv (smiling discreetly at Spanky's father and mother): "A brother? What would you name him?"

Spanky (very solemnly): " If I had a little brother, I think I would call him ... (short pause) ... Robert"

Zexiv and Puff (amused): "Robert? Why Robert?"

Spanky: "I don't know ... I just like the name Robert".

Puff found this very funny as she says not many parents name their babies Robert nowadays. "Where did he get this?", she wonders. However, Spanky's father was not very surprised, relating how their entire family had gone to Build a Bear in New York a week before; this is a place where you get to build a stuffed animal almost out of scratch, pick accessories and clothes, stuff a heart inside before he is sewn up, and name him. Spanky had come up with the name "Mike" - a very undog-like name - for his new stuffed dog, dressed smartly in a New York Yankees uniform.

"I just like the name Mike", Spanky explained afterwards ...

A Trip to San Francisco

Last Friday, Capt. Zexiv, Puff, and I departed for another voyage, this time to the beautiful and historic City by the Bay, for some long awaited R & R. The real purpose of the trip was to meet up with Zexiv's parents, as well as two of his siblings and their respective families, who will soon be making their way back to the home country, having spent the last few weeks vacationing in the States. The weekend also coincided with the birthday of Zexiv's brother-in-law, the wedding anniversary of Zexiv's sister and other brother-in-law, and Zexiv and Puff's own wedding anniversary as well.

The morning of the trip was a whirlwind of continuous and non-stop activity with Capt. Zexiv and I busy loading provisions, charging batteries and purchasing diesel fuel from the nearby Husky station (a personal preference of the captain's due to their logo which he thinks resembles a long departed childhood pet) while attending to our own business - I concluded my reconnaissance of the bottom level of Camp Grayloft (a separate report on this to be filed soon), while Zexiv picked up some black and white prints and also squeezed in the standard submarine captain's pre-departure workout - a gruelling two sets of ten reps of low bar squats. Shortly after nineteen hundred hours, following a final check of camp security and fortifications and the sub's navigational and communications systems, we cast off.

The voyage itself was relatively quiet and uneventful, and following a light dinner of cold ham and cheese sandwiches and salad, the captain and I took turns manning the wheel while the other caught some sleep. I initially was dismayed by the lack of warm food, in-sea video entertainment, and reading material onboard, and made a mental note to myself to take this up with the captain. Submarine life, while seemingly an adventurous and glamorous life, is a relatively lonely and cramped life and I thought the morale of the crew would greatly benefit from these small additions. The lack of distractions however did have one unintended outcome, ensuing that all our party arrived in our destination fairly well rested and ready for the adventures of the next two days. Night had fallen by the time we arrived and we proceeded to the hotel, via the very efficient Bay Area Rapid Transit.

San Francisco was wonderful. It was great to be back in this fascinating and exciting city again, where Zexiv lived and worked for a few months back in 1993 and where the captain's late paternal grandparents once made their home for six months every year. We stayed in this old and beautiful hotel, just steps away from the Montgomery stop, called The Palace. Zexiv, Puff, and I were very much impressed and awed by the Victorian inspired architecture, richly decorated interiors, and long and endless carpeted hallways, which reminded us of scenes of the Overlook Hotel from the movie, "The Shining". Early the next morning, Zexiv, his brother-in-law, and I discovered a metal plaque on the side of the building, which noted that Dr. Jose P. Rizal, the great Philippine patriot, opthalmologist, poet, writer, sportsman, and polyglot - had stayed in the same hotel on the exact same day in 1888, on his one and only visit to the United States. The discovery caused great excitement among members of Zexiv's family, especially Zexiv's father, who wrote a personal letter to the manager of the hotel relaying his great pleasure on this find.

It was fun spending time again with Zexiv's relations and visiting some of our favorite places again. We all rode the clanging trolley down to Fisherman's Wharf and Pier Thirty-Nine, where Zexiv and Puff visited their favorite Christmas store, Department 56, and picked up some miniature houses and accessories for their growing collection. There was also a very interesting puppet store nearby, which had string, hand, and finger puppets of all kinds - knights, dragons, princesses, witches, and dinosaurs, to name a few. The kids had great fun manouvering these puppets and the captain was reminded of his own fondness and fascination for puppets as a child. Zexiv's nephews and niece also rode the popular carousel, snacked on cotton candy and popcorn, and visited the aquarium.

Other highlights of the trip included a delicious breakfast in a bright and cozy fifties-inspired diner near the hotel, where the whole family also went on a previous trip and which Zexiv's father never misses on his trips to the city (Zexiv's six year old nephew however, was apparently not very impressed, as he threw up his entire meal of pancakes and chocolate shake towards the end), hanging out with the kids playing "donkey" card games and toy soldiers, the traditional early morning photo expedition of Zexiv and his brother-in-law (and fellow comrade-in-arms), and a side trip to sunny and scenic Sausalito. It was indeed a very memorable way to celebrate a birthday, a wedding anniversary, and still another wedding anniversary, and also a fitting farewell to Zexiv and Puff's favorite little pals.

An intended visit to a Tintin store recommended by Inverbras did not materialize as planned, due to the limited time, but, as Puff likes to say, "We'll always have New York" (or in this case, San Francisco). We look forward to visiting this beautiful city again sometime in the near future.

In the meantime, it is good to be home again and I hope to resume writing my regular reports and journal entries in the coming days. The long anticipated push to level two of Camp Grayloft should be attempted any day now. I am also pleased to be in touch again with my old comrade MCPO Maurice, who has recently resurfaced after many years of being thought lost at sea. His experience in military intelligence and surveillance is vital to the success of this mission.

Till then ...

Happy Birthday, Puff!!!

Yesterday was the birthday of Capt. Zexiv's pretty and feisty wife, Puff. Zexiv and I wanted to celebrate it in style (a 30+ gun salute?) but Puff's idea of an ideal birthday celebration was relaxing at home, watching a favorite reality show of hers, and ordering in her favorite Thai food, so we settled for a quiet evening instead. Zexiv got her a dozen long stemmed red roses from the nearby greengrocer, a card from Chapters, and a shared favorite - an apple pie (unbaked) from Granville Island - for the birthday cake.

The dinner consisted of tom yum soup, boneless curry chicken in coconut milk, and seafood and noodle dishes. Afterwards, Zexiv proudly brought out the apple pie which he had baked earlier and decorated with colorful letter candles from the local dollar store. Then the crew (Zexiv and I, to be precise) gathered around and sang a boisterous and slightly off-key happy birthday while Zexiv quickly snapped a few pictures, being ever concious of the fast-dripping candles.

Both Capt. Zexiv and I thought later on it might have been a nice touch to have had a bottle of wine, but it was a weekday after all. Puff seemed happy though with the birthday arrangements and went to bed shortly after, while Zexiv and I stayed up, had another slice of apple pie, and discussed the pros and cons of diesel and nuclear powered subs, the recent Church criticisms of the Gospel of Judas, as well as ideas for future voyages.

Later in the night I jerked awake suddenly, imagining I had heard the faint chanting of the happy birthday song coming somewhere from the upper level of Camp Grayloft. I got up, grabbed my M-1 rifle, and walked around for a minute or two but everything was still and there was nothing further to be heard except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. Was it a dream, caused perhaps by eating a big dinner? Hallucinations from sleep paralysis? The last song syndrome? Or perhaps the mysterious and mythical Toyanese? I have resolved to push through with my original plans of traversing those ridges to the upper level, in the coming days. I must see what is up there ...

In the meantime, Capt. Zexiv and I raise a glass of filtered water to the wonderful and ever youthful Puff, Zexiv's favorite Anilao dive buddy and Alaskan mountain biking partner, and wish her good health, happiness, many friends, success and fulfillment in the years to come! Here's to more exciting adventures together as well!