a million years ago my poor mother was rushed to a hospital in washington dc
she was not given any pain meds to deliver me because she was told that she would want to feel the once-in-a-lifetime experience of having her first child.
advice she would now never give another woman, she says.
birthdays are about the child but i think they should be about the mom.
my mom’s the greatest and unlike her gynecologist i have done my best to ease her pain as much as possible.
this isn’t the easiest task because, being somewhat affiliated with the xbi, i am often in the middle of some dangerous situations, and i don’t always succeed.
likewise i cant really have a steady girlfriend, which means i cannot produce any grandchildren for her.
fortunately my sister has brought unto the world replicants who look a lot like me and are named after grandma.
anything impressive that i have done in my crazy twisted life is all due to my mom who continues to be supportive of my wild imagination and bizarre paths. shes supportive the way Marge Simpson is. she may grumble but you know it’s for the right reasons. and often her tone alone will nudge me in the direction she feels is best.
so happy birthday, mom. thanks for bringing me to this crazy planet filled with beautiful people, wonderful music, and fantastic movies.
i hope i haven’t freaked you out too much so far.