Happy Birthday, HJ77!

Happy 35th 29th Birthday, HJ77!


May your year be filled with all that your heart desires!

Yes, it is a Saturday...

I have some amazing and wonderful friends...

Let me explain. I really like David Plotz. Earlier in the summer, Plotz wrote of piece for Slate that I found interesting which ended up pissing FAU off. (FAU's comments regarding the flaws in methodology for the piece are accurate and are in no way a reflection that FAU may be moving to the unhinged portion of middle age. I do not see him yelling at toasters for another three weeks or so.)

As part of this, I took my birthday off my profile on Facebook. FAU noticed last week and because he believes that I take little things and make much bigger deals out of them, he called me out on it. When I responded in my typical douchey way, he upped the ante. Essentially, he e-mailed thirty or so of my friends and encouraged them to tell me that: A) Plotz was wrong, B) FAU is correct, and C) wish me something about my nativity. When the messages started popping up this morning, I turned to HJ77 and asked her if FAU had sent out an e-mail. He had. He is a good friend as well as a bastard.

Speaking of good friends...HJ77, Teacher Dave, Sandor, and Anya all joined me at McGeary's yesterday for happy hour and you know what, it was really a happy hour. Thank you. Oh, and HJ77 has be wonderful and really supportive and (gifts! I hate gifts! I love her for ignoring my protests and paying attention to me for what I was planning on getting for myself.) wonderful, as I have a tendency to be particularly moody when it comes to Labor Day Weekend.

It was a wonderful Friday and I am looking forward to it being a great rest of the weekend.

Birthday Wishes!

Happy *cough* 59th *cough* Birthday to my wonderful mother.

She is a wonderful mother, a great grandmother, and a good friend and teacher.

I am lucky to have her in my life!

Oh, Hey! It was my birthday...

Last Friday, it was my 36th birthday.

It did end up being a good day, with very special thanks to the people who showed up at Wolff's to celebrate. It was grand.

That is not how it started out though.

I try to volunteer for Habitat for Humanity at least once a week, sometimes more often, for purely selfish reasons.*

It started out well enough. I had a great bike ride to the ReStore (454 North Pearl Street in Albany, if you are wondering) and Teacher Dave and I were ready to hit the road early because we had something like eight pickups with the first one in Wilton. As a note, Teacher Dave tries to avoid the highway because they are not pretty and this was a holiday weekend, but for expedience, he decided that the Northway was the way to go. As Gob says, "I made a horrible mistake."



As soon as we pass into Clifton Park, the light for the truck inspection prompts us to stand and deliver. I have never been through this before. Teacher Dave had never been through this. Guess what? We were both concerned.

Firstly, we got on the road early to ensure that we could be back by three pm so I could commence drinking.

Secondly, this inspection was going to make us late for the first pickup.

Finally, I am often frightened by the capriciousness of officers of the law. Which is not to say that I think all law enforcement officals are bad people. Quite the contrary. Many, if not most, are dedicated public servants who work hard and are both fair and consistent, which is a difficult balancing act. Luckily, our inspector was one of the many great ones.

Teacher Dave handed over the requested documentation and we sat. And we sat. And we sat.

And we sat.

(In the alternative Bible that my life story will become, "He.sat." will be the shortest verse.)

Then the inspection began.

If I ever hear the phrase broken leaf spring again, I may be forced to make it a hostage situation.

While Teacher Dave was trying to figure out to do with a truck that, by law, was not allowed on the road...



I sat.

In a rest stop.

In Clifton Park.

ON MY BIRTHDAY!

Now, I know some of you live, have lived, or are considering living in Clifton Park, and I still think that you are all good people but...this is not the place for me. Being trapped in a rest stop on Interstate 87 with no real way of getting back to the ALB and the German beer that was waiting for me was...scary. Well, not scary as tempting me to take Mister Hand and turn him into Mister Fist.



(While I was not a happy camper, I did take the time to look at the fashion choices of those around me, and it made me happier. At least I was not...that guy.)

Eventually, Teacher Dave and I were rescued by Emily and her sister (who was volunteering for the day as well) and we decided to get lunch at someplace on Rt 9.

Let me ask you all a question, if you are in a car with a group of people and someone says that there is a diner down the road; is that an implicit endorsement of the establishmetn or an acknowledgement of the diner's existence?

It was, by far, the worst dining experience that I have ever had. How bad was it? They screwed up a Kosher Dill Pickle. The screwed up a grilled cheese. This is how awful it was. They murdered a BLT. A BLT, folks!

With what happened later in the evening at the Hill Street Cafe (which I am not going to share here), it could have been the worst birthday ever.

It wasn't though.

It was awesome.
*These include but are not limited to: hanging out with Teacher Dave, working out without having to work out, and a sense of smug superiority with those who preach about investment in the community however fail to do anything.

You are all invited!

On September 3rd, at 5:30pm, I am going to be headed to Wolff's Biergarten for the the Boot.

Yes,it is my birthday. Yes, I will be middle aged. (Think about it folks, I will be 36 and living to 72 would be exceptional for someone like me, so...I will be middle aged.)

Please come down, say hello, and wish me well.