Saturday, June 04, 2005
Post Birthday Blues
All the insanity began on my 30th (ack!) birthday, just over a week ago. What I'd expected to be a low-key affair turned into a 3-day celebration, with many of my friends, many of whom don't know each other. Alcohol broke that ice.
On the day itself, I took in Revenge of the Sith, which was surprisingly good despite the usual cornball antics and Lucasy cheesmification. Then my bball team, The Truth, lost a tight battle that cost us a playoff spot, and hit the local Firkin to chase our sorrows (and tequila) with beer.
The biggest surprise of the whole affair happened when M took me for a nice dinner with our mutual friend L, who introduced us way back when. After a rare (in preparation and frequency with which I indulge) steak, we went over to Hugh's Room, where none other than the great Steve Forbert (www.steveforbert.com) was playing. This guy is a bit obscure, but he had two hit records with Columbia in the late '70s that my dad played relentlessly through the youngest portion of my youth. I always thought nobody outside of my family remembered him. Turns out he's got about 25 albums out, mostly released independently since he had a falling out with Columbia (the record company, not the country). I didn't even know he still toured! And there I was in a room full of baby boomers, all singing his songs right along with him. M treated me to a fantastic show, and I met Steve afterward and got him to autograph the live disc I bought. What a treat!
Lastly, we had a party the next day, schooled some neighbourhood kids in 3-on-3 bball (okay, we had an average height advatage of about a foot, but you gotta take your victories where you can find them, sometimes), then drank and ate and played spoons, yes, spoons on my 30th birthday. Age is a state of mind, and I'm proud to say I still have the mind of a 12-year-old!
Since then, it's been a workathon with meetings galore, so much so that I've declared next Friday 'meeting-free day' at my office. I'll celebrate alone if I have to, seems appropriate anyway.
-Bopper
On the day itself, I took in Revenge of the Sith, which was surprisingly good despite the usual cornball antics and Lucasy cheesmification. Then my bball team, The Truth, lost a tight battle that cost us a playoff spot, and hit the local Firkin to chase our sorrows (and tequila) with beer.
The biggest surprise of the whole affair happened when M took me for a nice dinner with our mutual friend L, who introduced us way back when. After a rare (in preparation and frequency with which I indulge) steak, we went over to Hugh's Room, where none other than the great Steve Forbert (www.steveforbert.com) was playing. This guy is a bit obscure, but he had two hit records with Columbia in the late '70s that my dad played relentlessly through the youngest portion of my youth. I always thought nobody outside of my family remembered him. Turns out he's got about 25 albums out, mostly released independently since he had a falling out with Columbia (the record company, not the country). I didn't even know he still toured! And there I was in a room full of baby boomers, all singing his songs right along with him. M treated me to a fantastic show, and I met Steve afterward and got him to autograph the live disc I bought. What a treat!
Lastly, we had a party the next day, schooled some neighbourhood kids in 3-on-3 bball (okay, we had an average height advatage of about a foot, but you gotta take your victories where you can find them, sometimes), then drank and ate and played spoons, yes, spoons on my 30th birthday. Age is a state of mind, and I'm proud to say I still have the mind of a 12-year-old!
Since then, it's been a workathon with meetings galore, so much so that I've declared next Friday 'meeting-free day' at my office. I'll celebrate alone if I have to, seems appropriate anyway.
-Bopper
Labels: 2005, friends, non-fiction, Toronto
