Happy birthday to me

Like the Miss America pageant, the first completely electronic television, the Pro Football Hall of Fame, ESPN, and Google's incorporation, today marks my introduction to the world. I also share a date of birth with Paul Brown, Buddy Holly, Dario Argento, Eazy-E, and the guy who plays Ben Linus on Lost. So there's the answer to the never-to-be-asked trivia question of what all of us have in common.

I suppose I'm at the age where birthdays are no longer remarkable. Sure, I was looking forward to it just because, but there's been nothing special about it. Watched the Bengals get smacked around like usual in a terribly boring and frustrating game. It tells you how bad they are that my interest had drifted by halftime of the season's first game. Defragging my computers may have been more exciting. There's always next year.

I knew I had a baby picture around here in the unpacked boxes from when I moved. I didn't find it--can't say that I looked that hard--but I discovered a couple boxes of old photos of me that my parents must have slipped into my possession when they helped me move in here.

It appears that I didn't like being photographed way back when. There must have been some controversy regarding my height (or length, in this case) as the book from which these photos are from have 21 1/2 inches and 20 3/4 inches notated. (Future biographers should note that the latter looks to be the accepted number.)

I'm going to attribute my night owl tendencies to my time of birth. Surely there's some junk science research study about this, right?

Anyway, happy birthday to me.