I have several friends who have birthdays this month, I know my musician friends, Lee Terry and Aaron Burkey do. My very good friend, Liz May does. High school friends. Old band mates. Patrick Ferguson shares one with me (more about mine later this week). And the list goes on.
But there’s one I really, really, really, really want to say Happy Birthday to. But, I can’t. He hates it when I call out his birthday. He says it’s calling attention to yourself and that it elicits disingenuous wishes and responses. But, I don’t see it that way. I see it as I really want to tell him happy birthday, or as I say it, Happy Solar Circumnavigational Anniversary Day! He blocked out Facebook so you can’t wish him anything there. But if you can figure out who I’m talking about and follow him on Twitter, go give him good wishes there. He really doesn’t like anything; especially people. But, at the same time, as long as you’re not making him eat onions or pickles (et al) or putting him in the thick of a crowd or the middle of Winston-Salem looking for a parking space, he’d do almost anything for
a price you. He once complained of his own birthday (surprise, mind you) party because there were too many people there.
He’s a curmudgeon but you know what? He’s my curmudgeon and a man that outside my father, my son, and my brother, I’m not afraid to tell him I love him. He’s both my Stalter and my Wardorf rolled into one and isn’t afraid to yell down from the balcony at me. He’s my best friend and he really means the world to me, even though we fight like cats and dogs. Heck, we fight more than many married couples. People constantly ask “how long we’ve been together.” Almost 20 years. That’s a long time. I love you, Curmudgeon-Who-Must-Remain-Unnamed!
Until tomorrow, same blog channel…
“I love mankind — it’s people I can’t stand.” – Charles Schulz, Go Fly a Kite, Charlie Brown