There are quite a few famous people partying today. Today’s celebrity birthdays include Erin Moran, Pam Dawber, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Frieda Pinto, Wynton Marsalis, Chuck Berry, Mike Ditka, Lindsey Vonn, Bristol Palin, Lee Harvey Oswold and CheesyMike.
That’s right, CheesyMike shares his birthday with at least 2 sitcom actresses, 2 movie actors (although in Jean-Claude’s case, I use the term loosely), 2 musical legends, 1 Superbowl champion, 1 Olympic gold-medalist, 1 political brat, and 1 political assassin (or so they say). Quite the motley crew, no?
On Sunday, I invited Mike and my friend Olivia over for lunch to celebrate their birthdays (Olivia’s was earlier this month). I made a creamy sweet corn and red pepper soup, as well as Tarte à l’oignon (onion tart). I forgot to take pictures (bad blogger, I know), but I promise to share the recipes with you another time. We also had a Dairy Queen brownie ice cream cake for dessert.
The food was good, the conversation…um, lively. The conversation, as it always does in my house, turned to penises. I had hoped having another girl at the table would result in a lack of penile discussions, but it was not to be. Luckily, Olivia has an awesome sense of humour and was able to laugh at such statements like “We men are just looking for somewhere to put our penises.” and “Seriously, those monkeys with the red asses? It’s appealing!”
Sigh. Don’t ask.
Eventually, we moved from the kitchen to the living room and enjoyed some less phallic conversation, along with some grapes and cheese. Now, this I did not forget to take a picture of!
Eventually, Mike could not resist the pull of the guitar propped up in the corner of the room. The guitar belonged to one of my brothers and it is over 30 years old. It’s pretty banged up, and I know a little piece of Mike’s heart dies whenever he sees it. He always offers to fix it. I’ve offered to let him have it, but he always declines, saying he already has too many guitars. I think he just doesn’t want my crappy not-a-fender-or-a-les-paul guitar. Snob!
But when he’s here, he always has to pick it up. And try to tune it. And strum and pluck at it. And I always ask the same question I’ve been asking him for the past 25 plus years. I never get tired of his reaction.
Happy birthday, Smick!