Happy Birthday to me…

The thing about birthdays is that it’s your own personal way of marking the passage of time.  It’s the one day you can force your friends to celebrate the fact that they know you.  It’s the one day that you can run around like a 4 year old gleefully blurting “It’s all about ME!” and it is.  Well, today, it’s all about me.

My brother said something interesting the other day.  He was dropping off the check for our escrow and the gal who was writing the receipt didn’t know who I was.  Now, part of me wants to bellow YOU DON”T KNOW WHO I AM?  But another part of me likes reeling the little minions in, and then if they don’t behave, stepping on their little necks.  These days I take the more gracious approach of giving them a few chances before I snap their necks.  While walking Beauregard this morning I thought about some of my adventures.  There are two County Recorders who have had to amend their procedures after getting in my crosshairs.  I take great delight in reminding them that it’s an elected position and if they don’t concede to my way of thinking I will run for their office, with the blessing of the title industry and put them out of work.  I pulled that stunt one time with the Alameda County Recorder the day before Thanksgiving.  I was already gone for the day, up in Montclair having sushi and Kirin for lunch with some friends.  My boss tracked me down and said “Doc, you got to get down to Oakland and get our deals on”.  So I went down there, got in line with our rep and waited for them to try and close the window.  At 1pm, they did, but I started hollering “Where’s Patrick O’Connell? Bring me Patrick O’Connell!”  Patrick O’Connell, the County Recorder was already gone for the long weekend and his staff had to make the call as to whether or not record documents presented to the County Recorders office after their artificial cut off time.  The supervisor came out to quiet me.  I reminded her that they were county employees, paid for with our tax dollars.  When it was all said and done, they recorded all of the documents presented that day.  From that adventure came a series of meetings that changed how things are recorded in Alameda County.

Back when the Loma Prieta earthquake rattled the Bay Area, I was living in San Francisco.  I had taken my Father to the World’s Series that night.  We were in the parking lot when he felt the ground coming up at him.  He’d been having some problems with his ticker and grabbed his chest, expecting the worse.  I felt the ground come up to me too, then I saw a 5 series BMW rocking on it’s springs and looked up and saw the high wires swaying.  I said to the old man “Stand up you silly son of a bitch, it’s an earthquake!”  He says “Oh!” and we walk into the game.

I’ve had so many adventures, smoking the Series 7 (yeah, I got a 92) working in the World Trade Center, doing dog rescue in New Orleans after Katrina, one of my proudest moments was at a Filipino friend’s daughter’s 18th birthday party.  They did the whole pomp and circumstance thing, the name of which escapes me.  There was all sorts of bizarre Filipino dishes that I was afraid of, but the highlight came when they did pictures of her birthdays from Day 1.  So this slideshow starts and it’s the family, the family, the family, and then her 16th birthday there I am with her in front of all the Aunties and Uncles and every thing else, the only non Filipino in the entire slide show.  That made me proud, that I made the cut.  I don’t think there are 49 pictures of me, I’m actually sure there aren’t.  But so far, it’s been a life well lived.

One Reply to “Happy Birthday to me…”

  1. I’ve got so much to say about paragraph two that I’d best just not get started….

    What are you talking about? Are you saying there aren’t days that are totally about ME?

    Happy belated birthday! 🙂

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