This weekend was my birthday. Yahoo!
My Guy treated me to a super fancypants dinner at a restaurant where the waiters have business cards. Who knew?
We saw a little road show by a little TV personality named Conan O’Brien.
My brother even remembered my birthday, even though he admitted that it took an e-mail from our mom and a face-to-face reminder from a family friend to make him remember. This is my brother who still hasn’t given me the Snuggie he bought for my birthday last year, the Snuggie that he instead took on a multi-day bike trip to use in lieu of a sleeping bag. That brother.
And Alice made me this t-shirt, which I think I’m going to wear every day forever.
Yes. My birthday? She was very, very good to me.
(Because there’s always a however.)
Remember when I was all, “Boo-hoo! Sammy Davis Jr. and Jim Hensen both died on my birthday?”
Now, my day is further tainted by the unfortunate passing of rock god Ronnie James Dio.
Now, I will always love me some Ronnie, mostly for a quote about him from one of those vh1 compilation shows. Wrestler Chris Jericho pointed out that 5’4″ Ronnie had “the voice of a rock god coming from the body of Carla from Cheers.”
But here’s the really scary thing. I have an occasional premonition for … you know … sensing when people are crossing over.
I knew the exact moment my grandpa passed … 500 miles away. That was beautiful and very emotional but very peaceful and lovely, too.
And that was my only premonition for, like, 15 years. Then, a few Christmases ago, I had this crazy feeling about your favorite president and mine, Gerald R. Ford. And then he died, like, the next day.
And this weekend? Out of the frickin’ blue, I turned to My Guy on Saturday night and said, “I wonder how Ronnie James Dio is doing.”
And he died the next morning.
I scare myself.
But mostly, I’m thankful for all of the friends who seemed to come out of the woodwork to wish me a nice day. I felt so rich! And special kudos to my cousin, who feels my pain about the whole cool-people-died-on-my-birthday thing.
“OK, if it’ll make you feel any better … Burl Ives died on my birthday. Have a holly jolly birthday!”