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Sunday, April 26, 2009

"...nothing really matters to me..."

The above line is from the song "Bohemian Rhapsody", which blogger Gort42 was kind enough to post for our collective amusement, and which provided me with at least a working title for this entry. Hey, you take the inspiration from wherever you can get it.

For the record, the only way to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody is with a really good sound system that has speakers relatively close to each other. Take my word for it.

Today in 1964 my mother was kind enough to give birth to me. Nice of her to do that. Why just think if she didn't? Why who would feed all of these damn cats that are running around here? Anyway, I'm not an overly sentimental kind of guy, so today is much like any other day, although once every seven years my birthday is a tad bit easier on me. Why? Well, when this day falls on a Sunday, I get to combine a "birthday" visit to my mother with my normal Sunday ritual of taking her shopping. I know, I know, that sounds horribly selfish, and I'll accept that as valid criticism. My mother doesn't drive (7 brain tumors will do that to you), so it's incumbent on my to see her for things like that, and to her credit, as least she is around and is interested in actually seeing me on my birthday, which is always a leg up vs. those who have a mother that has already passed on.

So there you have it.

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