45 and Counting

I turned 45 on Sunday.

As birthdays go, this one was fun.

I woke up early to play touch football with these guys.

Okay, that wasn't quite so much fun. I had only one pass thrown my way, and had to listen to a loud-mouthed teammate tell me my defense skills weren't so against a kid half my age and five times as fast. I still had fun.

While I was enjoying an afternoon of professional football, watching the New York New Jersey Jets and Giants continue on the path to a first-ever Gotham Meadowlands Bowl, another LIRR train went off the tracks.


No one was hurt in this wreck, but it's sure screwing up the morning and evening rush hours for the next few days. Thankfully, I won't experience any of the delays or train cancellations caused by this accident because I'm off this week. Yes, I'm still fuming about being passed over for the locomotive's engineer's job, but I would never wish them another derailment, especially not on my birthday.







After all, how could I wish ill will on anyone when Rick and Skippy make me this yummy crumb cake? This but was one of several gifts I got yesterday.






I got gift cards for Dunkin Donuts and Barnes and Noble. Two of my favorite establishments. They fell from this really cool birthday card that said I rocked.

A few of my friends called, sent me text messages, and wrote on my wall on Facebook, all to wish me a happy 45th.

But by far, the best part of my birthday had to be when me and the rest of the Spartacus clan sat down for a movie night. Because I rock, I chose This is Spinal Tap. To me and Eileen, this movie is timeless. To my boys, this movie is a classic oldie. To Noodle, this movie was just plain "stooopid."

What does she know? She's a Jonas Brothers fan. They've got nothing on St. Hubbins and Tufnel.

I have to tell you, I don't know what was funnier:

This scene at the airport


or, keeping count of all the times Noodle said, "I don't get it."

Yeah, I turned 45 last Sunday, and this one was fun.

He's 12 Today? That's Just Rickdiculus

Yep. It's true. It's true.

The sun has set on another September 17. Another halfway to St. Patrick's Day has come and gone. And our Rick has turned 12.

Rick, it's hard to believe you've turned 12. Where has the time gone? It seems like only yesterday me and Skippy were in our old Toyota Corolla driving through a deluge to bring you into the world. Your Mom reminded me today of our discussion on what to name you as we drove to the hospital.

Skippy: Terrence.

Me: Jackson

Skippy: Douglas

Me: Jackson

Skippy: Rick!

Me: Oh, alright already!

And on it went. Of course, you could have been Kathleen Maria. But we won't speculate on that alternate universe. We love you just the way you are.




And, there's so much to love. For one, you're a character. From the moment you could walk and talk, you had this innate ability to entertain anyone within five feet of you. A born showman, you are. You haven't changed a bit. Even now as you continue to hone your movie making skills with you pal, Timmy, your sense for the moment is impeccable. We love your stories, even if alot of them just aren't true.










But there's another side to you that I've written about quite a bit here in this space. You have the heart of a champion. When you set your mind to doing something, you go all out. Whether you're playing football, baseball, or getting twisted like a pretzel on some sweat-soaked wrestling mat. There's only one speed for you: full.









What's more is the special gift you have to lift up the spirits of those around you. I try not to wonder how I would have made it though this day had you not been there for me. I suspect in the coming years that you will probably be there again for me and for lots of other people you love. That's just the kind of guy you are.







I know, too, that sometimes you get down on yourself because of your height, or because Zeb or some of your friends pick on you for being so enthusiastic and good-natured. Don't let them get to you. It's hard to ignore, especially being the sensitive kid you are. The fruit never falls far from the tree. I know exactly how you feel. But if there's one bit of advice I can leave you with on this day, Rick, it's this: don't let your short stature limit your possibilities. There's so much you have to offer this world, that to put limits on yourself for whatever reason would be to rob us all of your Rickdiculusness.

Happy Birthday Rick. Hope you had a nice one!

Look Who's Getting Older

I am 44 years old today. Some say I don't look that old, and many would admit that I don't act my age either. It probably explains why this blog only has a high school reading level. I can be so juvenile sometimes.




My plan for today is spend it with my parents and family in central NJ. It's our after Thanksgiving tradition since we usually spend turkey day in Rockville Centre with E.'s family. I took some pics of the happy fete. Enjoy!

So...I Took A Few Days Off

What of it?

It's been a long week. I've been away for a work-related training class and because of my return flight was nearly three hours late from "ground delays" at JFK International, I did not get back to the beautiful, bucolic Lindenhurst, NY until sometime after midnight. (I was expecting to be home by 9pm. Do the math.)

Anyway, long story short, I'm tired. But before the head that's thinking these lame-ass words hits the pillow for the night, I thought I'd drop a musical gift for my pal FranIAm on the occasion of her 50th birthday. (I think she's lying about her age though. She doesn't look a day over 35 to me.)

Dave "Mahoney" Mullen and Butta at the Triad, October 10, 2007, performing two numbers from is new CD, Mahoney's Way.

Like Rashaan



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