Over the past six-and-a-half years, I have filled this space with plenty of thoughts, rants and ramblings, and over those same six-and-a-half years, I have also allowed this corner of the interwebs to sit dormant for extended periods of time. However, I've remained (somewhat ironically) consistent with one feature: I have never missed a birthday post.
I say "ironically" because during these past six-and-a-half years, these posts have really been the only way I have celebrated my birthday. For the vast majority of my 30s, which too quickly near their end, I have not been a fan of birthdays; or at least, not a fan of mine. I love other people's birthdays, but I have not generally enjoyed celebrating my own. I'm sure some might find the psychoanalytical underpinnings for this little factoid quite fascinating, but I'm going to disappoint them and refrain from that discussion. Besides, it's my birthday, and I'll suppress my emotions if I want to.
Still, for whatever reason, regardless of how much attention I've paid to this space, I have written a birthday post every year without fail. I'm not completely sure why. The posts have remained pretty similar, mostly discussing the interesting people who and events that share my birthday. (This annual search for new people and events has prompted me to consider developing a documentary that focuses on individual dates … sort of. At the rate I'm going, you should see it on the festival circuit by the time I'm writing my 30th birthday post. Not the post for my 30th birthday mind you; that would require some backwards time travel. Then again, H.G. Wells was born on this date 144 years ago, so maybe a time machine is in my future? Wait … where was I?)
So with that in mind, I hereby recognize, and maybe even celebrate, my first Jack Benny birthday. (For those of you who have no idea who Jack Benny was, thank you for making me feel even older than I am especially since it's not like he was a contemporary entertainer for my generation.) I even like the idea of this being my first 39th birthday.
That's right; it was 39 years ago, at Children's Hospital in San Francisco that I entered this world. I'm convinced that my late-night birth is why I remain a night-owl, more productive after the clock strikes 11 p.m. than any time before.
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