I was born on June 20, 1960. Another era. The Beatles hadn't happened yet. On my fourth birthday I had. a party in the back garden (or 'yard' as we would say in the US) and got given a yellow truck. Sometimes, in the summer, planes from the war such as Spitfires or Lancaster bombers could be seen and heard overhead. I didn't know at the time how memorable that would be.
I didn't love school. I like to say today that I would have been better suited to one on one tutorials, like home schooling or something, but who wouldn't.. I remember birthday gifts such as Thunderbird transfer kits, Airfix models which my Dad would build for me and a leather soccer ball which got kicked into the yard of neighbour (and resident bastard) Les Taphouse who caught the damn thing and wouldn't give it back. He was a copper too...
If nostalgia was food I would never go hungry. I love the stuff. Some people consider it a sickness, but not me. I love to spend time in the past. Sure, there's plenty cool about today, which is, like, my forty-seventh birthday, but like Christmas, it's doubtful there will ever be as much fun and excitement around this day now as there was when I was young. Aint that the way it is...
Having said that, I love my life and everyone in it. Everyday I think to myself, how come I got the golden ticket?
So thanks to everyone that has ever made my birthday rock, from my Mom and Dad, to Atlanta, and Gela of course, and Travis and Zoe; the band and all of our esteemed helpers: and of course, to all of you out there for even caring. Today is a good day!