One consolation:
...at least I won't be doing any singing.
This is not quite the "Happy Birthday to Me" post I was going to write, but then I'm feeling every single minute of my 40 years this morning.
Just coming off the tail end of strep throat and I've managed to pick up some other random nasty throat bug. I've completely lost my voice. Fantastic bloody timing.
I'm hoping it will be better in time for some appropriate noisiness this Friday. For those who might be interested, here's the invitation that went out to friends and colleagues last week:
40 is no big deal.
So my Mum noticed last night that I'm going grey. I pointed out that I've been greying slowly since I was 20. It's no big deal.
And that's the way I'm looking at 40 too. Um... I think.
The fact that I've been listening to a lot of The Cure, Gang of Four, XTC -- and that I've had my hair hacked back to pretty much the exact same spiky haircut I had in '77 (when I was first getting into The Cure, Gang of Four, etc.) -- has really absolutely nothing to do with a sudden wish to recapture my youth. Nothing. Nope. No way...
One thing I can say for sure about 40, though -- it's a bloody good excuse for a few cold beverages amongst friends.
Last year's informal gathering at Dora Keogh's was such a hoot, we've decided (with traditional short notice) to do it all again this year (but sans kilted musos this time).
So. Not a party: a gathering. A hooley, if you will.
- The where:
Be there, or be not...there is no try.
Requests for clarification may be submitted in advance on the back of a $20 bill.
Aye thenk ewe,
/m
P.S. An RSVP would be nice, if you're so inclined. Or just show up -- that'd be nice too.
P.P.S. Yes -- I know some of you on the list don't actually live in Toronto any more, and a couple of you have already said you can't make it; but maybe you'll just happen to find yourself in the area anyway and at a loose end. And it's always nice to get invited, don't you think?
P.P.P.S. Er...there was something else... it'll come to me in a minute...
P.P.P.P.S. Oh yes --
P.P.P.P.P.S. You must be of legal chortling age to attend.
So, as that second postscript says - if you do happen to be in Toronto and reading this (and at a loose end this Friday), feel free to drop in.
Meanwhile, in the not so good news department, I'm distressed to learn that my good blog-friend Dr. Stu Savory has just been "uninstalled" by the software house with which he was consulting. Their loss, IMHO.
Stu is a warm, sympatischer (thanks Martin!) gentleman, and a card-carrying genius, as far as I can tell. He's one of the smartest, most perceptive people I know. I'm confident he would be a remarkable asset to any organization that hired him.
Maybe Martin's JobBlog will be able to help...
If there's an alternate blog universe somewhere, in which the characters of the 100 Acre Wood are all bloggers - Stu would clearly be Owl.
For some reason, my birthday cards and greetings from friends very often feature A.A. Milne characters. For my 30th, my Mom and Dad gave me (amongst other wonderful things) a high quality lithograph of the original pencil sketch for this page:
...and now even Stu, who I've never even met, is wishing me Pooh-inspired birthday greetings. There's a message in all this. Not sure quite what it is, but I'm sure it's a good one.
Update: OK, now this is just genuinely odd.
I swear, I've never gone out of my way to present myself as some kind of Pooh afficionado. I do love the books, and have greatly enjoyed re-discovering them with my two oldest kids, but now one of my bestest friends has independently picked up on the Milne vibe without even the prompting of this blog post.
The very wonderful Kate Atherley just emailed, saying: "In the words of our hero A.A. Milne, Hipy Pappy Bithuthday..."
That's almost exactly the same as the lovely little birthday message Stu tacked onto the end of this post at his blog.
Odd. Definitely odd.
"I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit.
"No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't.
But there was going to be when I began it. It's
just that something happened to it along the way."
