How was my birthday weekend, you ask? Well, I got out early on Friday and wisely spent the found time enjoying lunch and meandering through the local Circuit City with my coworkers. After we went our separate ways, I headed over to the nearest record store to pick through every used CD they had. I think I left with a half dozen for pretty short money.

Because another of my bastardly co-worker gave me a CD of covers (his third full-length contribution to the CD Challenge), I spent the first half of Saturday combing through my collection trying to come up with a decent response. After breaking a hundred tracks, I realized that I might have been obsessing a bit (like the Cowbell and Actors-turned-singer Collections) and sought out a bar of soap and a comb. I then got a nice visit from #1GF!’s Mom, who brought me gifts and homemade lemon squares. After chowing myself silly, #1GF! and I headed to my parents house for lasagna and board games. There, I got the gift of laughter, which I fully understand, and the gift of fashion, which I obviously do not. Lemon squares + lasagna + laughter = a pretty kick ass day.

On my actual birthday, #1GF! and I drove all the way down to the Cape for the sole purpose of hitting a used record store. I suppose we could’ve gone in town and hit way more stores, but the sun was shining and I was less interested in buying CD’s than enjoying the company. After such a nice ride, #1GF! was really good about letting me go about my business and even cut me off at the register to buy me the half dozen CD’s that I picked out. On the way home, not only was she really good about listening to the sappy stylings of Nat King Cole, but almost seemed to enjoy her first listens to Face to Face and the New Bomb Turks.

In a punk pop stupor, I forced #1GF! to drive me all the way back to the Abington Ale House, where you get your dinner free on your birthday. I had never had a free birthday meal before, so I thought it would be sort of cool in an “I’m 97 years old, where’s my free tapioca” sort of way. Everyone knows that you get a free birthday meal in the Ale House, so when it’s your birthday, there are a bunch of other cheap pikers around you that are having birthdays, too, which I thought was pretty cool. There was a little 12 year old girl having a party, there was crotchety, old man Sheldon behind me, and there was “Jimmy A.”

Jimmy A. was a heavy-set, middle-aged guy who wore a black baseball cap sitting high on his head like an old veteran might wear. He was sitting with another heavyset guy with thick glasses who looked like he might be more of a responsibility than someone he normally went out for drinks with. He was sitting right across from us, and for 90% of the meal he was merely a part of the background scenery.

After the waitress (who was a complete sweetheart) cleared away my chicken pot pie and delivered a cup of pudding with a candle in it, she sang “Happy Birthday.” When she was finished, “Jimmy A.” came over, introduced himself, and wished me a happy birthday, too. He then told me it was his birthday, and shook my hand like some old guys do to old friends, where they sort of shake with one hand and slap the back of your hand with the other. He then wished me well, and went back to his table and resumed his free dinner. It was oddly fucked up and really nice at the same time. And that little gesture made my dinner. Well, that and the free pudding.

Like a couple of 90 year olds, #1GF! and I were on our way home by 6:30 to wind down and watch a little TV. After we went to bed, I stayed awake until long after my birthday was over, staring at the red glow of the alarm clock and thinking about how lucky I am to have made it another year.

(Because I’m not really good with the phone, I just listened to all my birthday messages and laughed my ass off. Thanks!)

Posted in #1GF!, Happy