That is coinciding with the book I'm writing, which I hope you'll do the opening for, which I'm calling it, um, swallowing well consistently. Um, just picking off your early.
All right, all right, enough of your, okay, but if you can read my poem, I hang on. See, can they get singing? No, no, no, you can't, because I was before her and my hand, okay, go ahead. I have a list, everybody. Yeah, I have a list. Go ahead, Rick. Go ahead, and Carmen.
Hello, hello. Let's let Rick, thank you. Usually short, go ahead. It is super short, and, uh, Rick made that from his heart, as he always does, apparently. I don't know, witnesses have testified, but this is actually for DJ because, uh, you know, I had drafted it a little earlier, and I know a little bit about DJ because he shared. So this is the, uh, birthday poem in honor of DJ, and it goes as such: from the heart, the gift of the child tied up in responsibility, caught in ambiguities. Yet the mind of the father is everlasting, entwined in eternity, committed beyond flesh. His role he accepts in stoic gratitude and home. Thank you.
Do you mind sending that? Sending that was amazing. Yeah, absolutely, brother, thank you. Sometimes he's talented. Sometimes he is singing. That was beautiful, actually. Very cool, thank you. You had your hands up, time?
Happy Sunday. How are you? What do you think? One thing you're grateful for today? Thank you, Sheila. Well, I'm grateful to hear your voice as always. You definitely are the highlight of my Sundays. Thank you.
I've just come on. I had to make a choice earlier about whether I should have a beyond space where I could have a conversation with the future president of Kenya or come onto a space with Rick being the co-host. Anyway, let me not answer that.
