It’s amazing to think that about fifty-five (55) years ago, my little sister Marla, just two years old, couldn’t quite say Barry. She called me baba instead. Fast forward thirty years or so, when her son Stephen came along, Marla told him, “that’s Baba”. Then came a niece, another nephew, and some grandkids. Yep, still Baba.

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Being baba has become one of the great honors of my life. It’s more than a nickname, it’s a connection to my family, a reminder to stay playful, and the perfect identity for someone who loves bringing characters like Zorbar to life. Through baba, I get to tap into my inner child and invite others to do the same.

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Now, at sixty-seven, I finally get to do what I’ve wanted to do my whole life: tell stories, be silly, and try to make people smile. During all those “boring” years, I was quietly saving up my silliness and fantastical ideas.

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It’s an honor to share Zorbar with you—and if you’d like more from Baba, stop by www.babasbookchair.com. I’ve been saving up.