And not to steal his party, but June 12 is also a birthday of sorts for me.
I know -- I'm really fortysomething, age-wise. But June 12 marks 30 months since my cancer diagnosis and my new "survivor" life began. But I promise not to start whining like the famous Thirtysomething folks.
After all, I'm still alive and kicking. Literally, in fact -- just ask my karate sensei, or "Bob", the standing punching bag that recently got a series of roundhouse blows to the face.
Somebody tell Ted Kennedy. Give him some hope.
Blake is coming up again this weekend for another visit (see, I'm still magnetic!) so we'll be able to celebrate. (With cake!)
Naturally this thought makes Beatles music start playing in (what's left of) my mind: