I’m dusting off the party hats and confetti launchers. I might even TP my own maple tree. We’re havin’ some fun now, huh?
When I was twenty, I met somebody who was deeply into astrology, and she asked me what time of day I was born. I asked my parents, and they couldn’t remember. :rolleyes: I suppose Mom was drugged out in the hospital, and Dad was sloshed. I suppose he passed out cheap cigars. That was in 1949, do people still do that?
Happy birthday! (Damn, 1949 – that’s the first half of the last century! :eek: )
Hmm my buddy’s birthday is today, he’s 27. Exactly 30 years younger.
I’m sure he’s completely baked right now. How about you? 
Happy birthday!
We just got back from Olive Garden, where my wife and I had a fine dinner. The hostess kept threatening to sing, but my waitress backed her into a corner with a corkscrew.
I’m not at all bothered by being 57 years old. Am I completely baked? Not yet. I just poured a bourbon and ginger, and ahmagonna roll something.
Congratulations.
See, Paul, you’re a baby!
Happy Birthday, AskNott!
1949 was a GREAT year.
((since you’ve hit that age 2.5 weeks ahead of me, tell me–what does it feel like, young’un?))
Note to Twickster: It’s hell getting old, but it’s better than the alternative.
Well, we can agree that 57 is officially middle-aged. Congratulations!
Oops! I missed it by a day. Happy day after your birthday, AskNott!
Hmm. August 1949. I remember what I was doing that month because I started to school. I remember the first moments of the first day of first grade and the girl that I met and her name. And pretty much everything from then on.
It took another twelve years for the boy who sat on my right to get around to kissing me. And the girl on my left is still a friend. The glass duck full of bubble bath that I got from a boy at Christmas that year is still in my bathroom, but the bubble bath is only twenty years old.
1949 was a good year. In July, for my birthday, I got a book about new babies. It didn’t have any pictures of Mommie below the shoulders. And I got some aluminum things to make popcycles in by using Koolaid and I got a ring that squirted water. That was a good birthday party. Now I know who the new baby was. I have wondered all these years.
In school, Ted and Sally had a dog named Tags. They had never heard of Dick and Jane nor were they interested in their dog Spot.
There was some talk on the radio about bombs, but then I got a dog and named him Tags too and everything was good again.
If you see my favorite reading book from school, let me know. It’s called I Know a Story. I put it down somewhere over half a century ago and now I can’t find it.
Happy Birthday, young man!