My wife’s birthday

October 28 and it’s my wife Fyl’s birthday today. Never mind how many. We’re at that one-candle-will-be-fine age. Otherwise you’ll need a fire marshal on hand when it’s time to blow them out. I asked her where she wanted to eat and it was closed. So was her second choice. I said how about crab’s legs? She loves crab’s legs. As much as the crab did, almost. We thought where, you know someplace fancy? Hip? Gauche? She said keep it simple so we’re off to Cameron’s in Pasadena. And not even the right part of Pasadena, but the part east of Pasadena City College where the Rose Parade passes by in silence and shame, devoid of media coverage, bands blowing clams all over the place and people ripping the roses right out of the still living floats. Ghastly. My brother and his wife lived near there once till the heat drove them out towards Pedro and the fog. They had a living room that tilted. The whole living room off center, like the gravity was stronger on the other side of the couch. I weirded me out. Well it didn’t, but it could have, but that was before Facebook and inanity. Where was I?

Oh yeah, I just wanted to wish my wife a happy birthday and successful conclusion to a profitable birthday month. She sure can make the most of a birthday month. I remember when the birthday month was a birthday week. When we were newlyweds she got just the day, you know, her birth day. Hence the word. But over our three plus decades it’s stretched some. That gravity again.

She’s not on Facebook, actually. So instead of posting this I could just turn to her and say Happy Birthday Phyllis! I will, too. This is just practicing. Don’t wanna blow it again. She’s still pissed off about the Arbor Day thing. A tree is a tree, I figured. I was wrong.

Anyway, it’s been a good birthday month. I sure miss summer, though. Octobers are rough that way. Dark and if not quite brooding certainly chilly. I’ll adjust by November. Christmas comes soon after. I love Christmas.

And I love my wife. So she gets to feast on crab legs in the bar at Camerons. She said 7:30 so I ought to think about getting ready, instead of blathering on and on like this.