It's my party and I'll blog if I want to

Yes indeedy, ‘tis my birthday today! We have always made a big deal out of birthdays in this family, and I like it that way. You get to have a whole “Birthday Week” and you ARE ALWAYS RIGHT. That of course was my favorite part. Can’t imagine why.

But DO NOT REMIND ME of my age, or in the future I shall write about the days when you used to listen to Whitesnake…or Rush (Kona Girl - I'm talking to you!)…or Kajagoogoo. So many friends, so many secrets (or as we say in the Blogger house these days, “THAT’S going in the blog!”).

My day of course started, as it does EVERY year, with Mom calling to sing me Las Mañanitas and to tell me the story of the morning I was born:

Mom had spent the prior evening learning how to put diapers on a baby, and she’s sure that her laughing so hard is what sped along the labor. You gotta love how she only learned about diapers HOURS BEFORE I WAS BORN.

Procrastination – Score one trait from Mom

Daddy sang “Soliloquy (AKA My Boy Bill)” from Carousel on the way to the hospital, with these apropos lyrics:

My boy Bill
I will see that he is named after me, I will.
My boy, Bill! He'll be tall
And tough as a tree, will Bill!
Like a tree he'll grow
With his head held high
And his feet planted firm on the ground
And you won't see nobody dare to try
To boss or toss him around!

Say, why am I talkin' on like this?
My kid ain't even been born, yet!
I can see him when he's seventeen or so
And startin' to go with a girl
I can give him lots of pointers, very sound
On the way to get 'round any girl
I can tell him ...

Wait a minute!
Could it be?
What the hell!
What if he is a girl?
Bill! Bill!
What would I do with her?
What could I do for her?
A bum with no money!
You can have fun with a son
But you got to be a father to a girl.

Mastery of show tunes – Daddy (although it’s a VERY CLOSE second for Mom…she was just a tad busy to be singing at the time)



(That really is his picture by the way...)

And did I mention…Mom slept through the whole thing. THE WHOLE LABOR AND DELIVERY. To this day, she “can’t understand what all the fuss is about” or why the women giving birth in movies are “doing all that screaming”. Please don’t kill her.

Love of coma-inducing drugs – no, wait, I didn’t get that particular attribute. But I’m all for Mom passing down the easy-labor gene. We shall see.

My favorite part…afterwards when everyone came to see us in the hospital room, Mom looked so perfectly pretty in her matching nightgown and robe. With her softly-curling hair held neatly back in a headband, and lipstick freshened, Mom impressed everyone. My Aunt Blanca immediately exclaimed, “You sure don’t LOOK like you just had a baby!”

Need for perfect hair, clothes, accessories and makeup in ANY AND ALL situations – Mamacita!



For all those things and more, I love and salute you...



...and Mikie, and Duane, and Grandpa, and Gaa...and all my friends and family who made me what I am today.



(Mr. Blogger in his child-modeling days back in England...I KID YOU NOT.)

And to my Honey...you are my everything.

P.S. How freakin' cute would we have been together as kids???