Top of the morning to you or top of the evening if you happen to be reading this upside down.

It’s a big weekend on Frankie Laine here near Freeland, former home to the Utopian Society of the Naked in the 1880s. You won’t see this information in the acclaimed three volume Lorna Cherry series, “South Whidbey and Its People.” Apparently the trend toward turn of the century nudism along Holmes Harbor was forced to turn the other cheek after locals ousted proponents of inappropriateness.

Not that we will be naked on Frankie Laine this weekend. Of course, it’s too cold and the leaves are down. What would the neighbors think?

Our weekend celebration is glorious as we are having a baby showing.

Neighbor Suzi’s granddaughter, The Beautiful Ava Rose, will be inspected by local non-luminaries to make sure that Baby Ava has all the accoutrements such as fingers, toes, lips and an attitude. Of course, a small keg of adult beverage has been ordered for the curious and passersby. In addition, a think tank has been rented to measure thoughtfulness.

Finally, there will be many bags of Doritos.

Being raised Presbyterian/Baptist/Republican it was rare that we celebrated the birth of a child. We usually waited until high school graduations to honor the intelligence and wherewithal of the newborns with travelers’ alarm clocks and gift certificates to Woolworth’s.

Ever go to a Woolworth’s? Do they still have them? I remember it like it was yesterday.

My first cheeseburger and side order of mashed potatoes and gravy at the Woolworth’s in Oil City. It was 1963. The Beatles had yet to hit. We still had no McDonalds. Our high school was featured in the latest “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not” for having the only five-story high school in the world with a ground floor entrance to each floor.

Our celebration this weekend will not be in Ripley’s unless our baby gawkers find more toes than empty paper cups. We are hiring a security guard to monitor behavior around Ava Rose’s crib in case some folks start taking pictures without Grandma Suzi’s permission.

Gifts are not encouraged but will be welcome. What are neighbors for?

Of course, there will be a cornucopia of consumables conscientiously collected for the crib corner. And if that’s not unneeded alliteration, I’ll eat my hairline. Of course, I’d go hungry.

This weekend not only will we be celebrating baby birthing and baby breathing, we will be acknowledging that there is much for which we can be thankful.

This weekend we honor New Jersey, third state to ratify the Constitution on Dec. 18, 1787. Raise your hand if you were there back then and we’ll send you a pound of the Freeman Blend.

New Jersey, noted for its’ state flower, the Purple Violet, its’ state tree, the Red Ash and the New Jersey state bird, the Eastern Goldfinch is also home of the state mob boss, Tony Soprano.

This weekend we also honor the first radio voice from space. Remember back in 1958 when President Dwight David Eisenhower’s recorded Christmas greeting was broadcast from the United States satellite Atlas? Neither do I? I was out in the yard playing, probably imitating Adlai Stevenson for the neighbor kids. We were all very political in the ‘50s.

I remember getting sent to the principal’s office for imitating Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus on the school public address system. Of course, I was in the principal’s office at the time.

Yes, it will certainly be a great weekend. In fact, it already is. We are all vertical and the keg of adult beverage has just arrived. Maybe we can get the security guard to dress like Santa so the baby will feel comfortable in the future if she is ever pulled over for speeding on Sixth Street in Langley.

We certainly wish you and yours and theirs and ours a pleasant and productive holiday period. Doesn’t that sound better than “holiday semicolon?”

OK, so that’s not funny, but I will share with you quickly what is funny. This is the joke that I will tell at today’s baby showing, after the baby takes a nap.

A man and his wife were celebrating 50 years together. Their three kids, all very successful, agreed to a Sunday dinner in their honor.

“Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad,” gushed son number one. “Sorry I’m running late… had an emergency, you know how it is, didn’t have time to get you both a present.”

“Not to worry,” said the dad. “The important thing is that we’re all here together today.”

Son number two arrived and announced, “You and Mom still look great! Dad, I just flew in from LA and didn’t have time to get you a present. Sorry.”

“It’s nothing,” said the father. “Glad you were able to be here.”

Just then the daughter arrived. “Hello both of you, Happy Anniversary! I’m sorry, but my boss is sending me out of town and I was really busy packing, so I didn’t have time to get you guys anything.”

Again the father said, “I really don’t care, at least the five of us are together today.”

After they had all finished dessert, the father put down his knife and fork, looked up and said, “Listen up, all three of you, there’s something your mother and I have wanted to tell you for a long time. You see, we were very poor. Despite this, we were able to raise each of you and send you to college. All through the years your mother and I knew that we loved each other very much but, well, we just never found the time to get married.”

The three kids gasped in unison and said, “You mean we’re bastards?”

“Yep,” said the dad, “and cheap ones too!”

Read Jim on-line at www.southwhidbeyrecord.com.