Petchulia.... Petchaula... Spatula?

 

So, I had another birthday over the weekend. I find my birthday to be very stressful, especially when I say my age out loud. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate all the well wishes and attention. It's just that it coincides with all the other holiday hoopla going on at the end of the year. I also don't like to be reminded of how old I am. I was watching television and they had a news conference with the cops that heroically had evacuated people in Nashville. That's where some mentally unstable moron, blew himself up in a recreational vehicle on a downtown street. He had wired the thing to play Downtown, by Petula Clark, on loudspeakers just before it exploded. The cops were describing what they heard and one struggled with the song. 

"It was something about downtown where the lights shine bright....I'm told it's a song called Downtown by Pe..tu..lia Clark?"

Well, of course this cop had never heard of that song, never heard of Petula Clark. He wasn't even born yet when I was entering my midlife crisis or Bill Clinton was creating scandal with a cigar and an intern in the Oval Office. That song is from fifty six years ago, when I was a freshman in high school. It's little things like that which will slap you into realizing just how damn old you are. Anyway, other than having to face old age and way too much sugar Sunday, my birthday was okay. Besides, I got the best birthday present ever. That's because I bought it myself. 

My Birthday Present