And some days I stare off into the stratosphere and think to myself, Thank God I’m not allergic to peanuts. Peanut butter would be a too, too delicious suicide.
And I had my birthday over the weekend and I’m another year more clever and 360 days cuter.
Humans travel in time in a unique way. We go a whole year being one age – when you’re 27, you are 27 (with no variance) for the whole year, up to the day before your birthday. And then, BAM, in one day you age a year. Time manipulation: slow-fast-slow-fast. That’s the dance. Repeat until exhausted . . . but flourish often (trust me).
I had a fun weekend. I petted a shark and a stingray. I had my fortune told to me by a mechanical gypsy. I ran into a tame raccoon in a tunnel. I saw the museum of mischief and madness. I squeezed into a photo booth with two lovely ladies for pictures. I saw exotic insects. I slept in the grass by a pond because the Art Museum was closed and we had time to kill. I saw a stage play version of Plan 9 From Outer Space (it was most excellent).
All the above was accomplished in St. Louis, where two of my favorite females, Genenda and Torrie, celebrated with me. We went to a theatre’s garage sale, the City Museum (the most unique museum I’ve ever been to…I recommend it), The Zoo (which is free in St. Louis), the Art Museum (free as well…but closed when we got there), and finally the Plan 9 play at the Magic Smoking Monkey Theatre (I think that’s the name of the group).
Lots of driving this weekend, I passed the time listening to American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, on audio and had the strange, surreal experience of driving through the places mentioned in the book as the protagonist traveled to many of the same places that I passed through…right down to driving over the Big Muddy River.
And to top it all off, I got to celebrate my Goddaughter, Reese’s first birthday at Chuckee Cheeses. She’s an adorable and very happy kid. Sky-Ball should be an Olympic sport.
And, finally, since Saturday marked the anniversary of my birth, and because I happen to have gotten the digital version of a lot of old photos, I thought I’d embarace myself by posting a few of them up where just a few dozen of my most personal friends (and any internet lurkers) could view them. So . . . if you dare . . . travel back in TIME . . .
YIKES!!! OK…that’s probably too far back in time. Oh well. Here I am, seconds after being born, at home.
Here I ham giving some of my first literary criticisms…
And forward in time . . .
Me crawling around…with a Damien sort of a hair cut,
Yeah, my Spiderman fixation goes way back.
Me and my little brother.
I believe that’s me and my little sister.
Nick and I: so adorable…you’ll puke…
First day of school…
People are sometimes perplexed by my near obsessive like of Halloween. But I think it stretches back to good memories…very early on:
And if you still don’t understand…read more Ray Bradbury (he understands why Halloween is important).
Incidentally, those pumpkins are from a pumpken patch that my Great Grandparents had on their farm when they were alive. We’d go there and pick pumpkins every Halloween.
And this picture is photographic proof, PROOF that I was doing the pirate thing long before the Disney movies (though I may not have been drinking rum just then…).
Wow….I was cool…yeah…
And here, my brother, sister, and I are going through that milestone that every family goes through: being eaten by King Kong.
Nick and I, some where, at some point in time.
Here I am doing my civic duty and holding up the arches in Utah.
I’m about to go sky diving here. And yes, those straps near the crotch…they hurt…
Here, Nick and I performed a magic show in high school. That’s our principal. We shoved a flaming torch through his head for the finale.
My brother, dad, and I doing some wildlife photography in the Florida Everglades (in 98′ I believe).
Here’s a Halloween with my cousin Steve, Nick, and I (5 or six years back). That’s right…we were still trick or treating in college…but we entertained people with magic tricks and strange behavior, so it was alright.
OK…that’s more than enough. I don’t want to put you all asleep . . .