Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby
Yesterday was my birthday. As I shaved -- I am not making this up -- I thought of a line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. "I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old."
Many newspapers have a section which lists historic events and birthdays for a given date. I thought that I'd look in the Albuquerque Journal and see if there were any famous "children" that I could tell my mother about, so she wouldn't feel so bad because her "baby" was getting older.
I found two. I share my birthday with Nancy Sinatra, Frank Sinatra's daughter, and also known for the 1960's hit "These Boots are Made for Walking". She is 68. Also on the list was Don Grady, from My Three Sons. (My mom thinks he was the middle son.) He is 64.
See, mom, you won't be old until I turn 68!
posted by Captain Chlorophyll @ 5:24 AM
3 Comments:
Oh, damn it, I missed it again. I remember thinking ages ago that I really ought to remember your birthday this year and at least send you a card or something. But June snuck up on me like some kind of stealthy, ambushy thing. Well, happy belated B-day, anyway!
Ah crap. I totally spaced it.
I had house guests over and was rebuilding a broken shelving unit in my closet and watching small children... Hands full and totally distracted.
Betty, after all the years I have forgotten yours (I still can't remember if it's July or August), you needn't worry.
Robomarkov, here's a clue: yours is two days before D-Day, and mine is two days after.
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