Michael's Texas Embrace

Andrew's birthday has come again. And to celebrate the one year anniversary of me making a birthday song for him, I thought I'd do it again. Er...that is, I didn't get him a present or mail him a card, but crappy music is truly the greatest gift one human can give another.

So instead of one really, really good song, Andrew, I've made you four really, really bad ones. Loosely tethered by the theme of your birthday, I have no doubt you will find them meaningful and moving. Happy Birthday.

The First Birthday Cake
Andrew's Age
Skunk Birthday
The Birthday Hole

It's a birthday E.P.! You can consider the songs to be "in order" if you want, and listen to them in the order they are listed.

(A "other people's birthdays" dislaimer: Andrew is my brother-in-law. Maggie know when his birthday is and remembers it. This allows me to do so, and with some warning. I have a vague notion of when other people's birthdays are, but can never remember. You should all tell me when your birthdays are, in writing. then maybe I can make you a crappy song, too. I would be honored to do so.)

Oh man. I don't know. It seems like I never dared to even dream. And if I did dream, it was in jest. No one ever thinks. But then-- One day-- It just-- Someone thinks. And then, that someone, does. But even still...I don't know. It could be something good. It could be something bad. I just don't know.

What do you think?

Does the world suddenly open wide before you? Or what?

I've been working at my new job. All I've been doing all week is computer training. It's mind-numbing. I'm training on how to count money and how to spot counterfeits and what makes a check good and what makes a check bad and even the proper way to shake hands and when it's time to check messages on my blackberry and when it is not (note: I do not have a blackberry.) Again, it's mind-numbing.

But there is hope. My trained coworkers spend their days discussing problems solving the New York Times' crossword puzzle. They hook up the DVD player and watch movies. They loaf around. Even I, a trainee, can drink coffee or eat cake or go to the bathroom whenever I want (I could not do ANY of those at my last job without permission.) When I am trained, I will read and write and get paid for it. Maybe I'll start and finish that children's book I dream of writing. Unless it's just a really weird adult book. Whatever.

But it's hard sitting at a desk all day, I find. When I get home I have to do things, since I've been so inactive all day. I do push ups and ride my bike, which is hard because it's Texas and it's hot. But I must ride anyways. I mean, people gots to do things. Tonight we went to the hot tub and pool in the rain, and I was reminded of how awesome it is to be in a pool at night in the rain, floating on your back, with the water falling into your face...

I have a xylophone (well, concert bells) and a melodica on the way, and I am excited.

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Do you ever wonder what other people do when they are by themselves?

The other day Maggie and I were talking, and I revealed that earlier, before she came home, I had been wearing these pea green leisure suit pants I swiped from my dad's closet long ago. I have the jacket that matches, but I was trying to find a shirt that would go with it. That's a challenge. Matching anything with pea green leisure pants is HARD. Maggie seemed a little shocked by the fact that while she was gone I spent time on such an activity. Trying on different shirts and rejecting them. Putting on my gold tie. I didn't mention that I also played Jackson Five songs really loud and tried (in front of a mirror) to incorporate the famed Murf Dance with the robot. I found you need a pretty fast robot going to make it look good.

But, now I wonder--what do other people do when they are alone. Dance? Dress up? Who knows. Until I get hidden cameras in everyone's house, I will not have an answer.