Yesterday being
May 5, 2001, I had to deal with the fact that I was having another
birthday, and
didn't really care. My birthday is no big deal.
People ask me
how old I am and I just tell them I'm
30. I've been
30 for a while now, and I'll stay
30 until I'm
70.
My wife's birthday is
July 4. How cool is that? I get
Cinqo de Mayo or however you say that. I also get the dishonor of sharing a birthday with
Karl Marx. Good thing
John Rhees Davies and
Tina Yothers are there to share it with me, too.