Today I am thirty-six years old. (Three Dozen for all you egg fans…)
According to Wikipedia, there are 222 days left in the year after today.
In 1995, this was the day that the Murrah Federal building in Oklahoma City was bombed. According to Wikipedia nothing else of note really happened on this day for the last 2000 years. Okay, I take that back. In 1911, the New York Public Library was dedicated. I don’t know what that entails, but I envision someone smashing a bottle of champaign over the head of one of the lions. Probably not how it went down, but that seems festive enough so I’m going with it.
Many notable people share my birthday. Libertarian comedian Drew Carey (good) and multi-talented poet and van-dweller Jewel Kilcher. (not good) Joan Collins was born on May 23rd, but I never say she “shares” my birthday, because she doesn’t seem like the sharing type. Famous know-it-all Ken Jennings was also born on May 23rd. Come to think of it, so was Betty Garrett. You know her best as Laverne’s Dad’s Girlfriend from Laverne & Shirley.
There IS a famous writer born on my birthday, but I feel cheated. Aunt B. gets Arthur Conan Doyle and I get Mitch Albom–the Tuesdays With Morrie guy. Could be worse. I could have gotten Dr. Phil.
I will be spending this day enjoying my favourite pastime. Passing a kidney stone. It’s not so bad, really, considering that this is a Tuesday birthday. Having your birthday fall on a Tuesday–as all birthdays occasionally do–is generally an off year for the Birthday Holiday. Tuesday is a rather monastic day. There’s never a decent excuse for a long enough weekend to absorb the Tuesday. The world is going about its business. Tuesday is the one day a week that everyone buckles down and feels like working. Monday is recovering from the weekend. Wednesday is “Hump Day”. Thursday is almost-Friday. But Tuesday is “let’s meet on the San Diego shipment” day. So as birthdays go spending my Tuesday birthday on hydrocodone, phenergan and grape soda is …. better than nothing. I think maybe I’ll watch Empire Strikes Back. Yoda makes more sense when you’re on the drugs.
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