I was never right, but always close. Every year, I'd send Jake a "Happy Birthday" email sometime in the middle of October, and I'd be wrong, without exception. Usually late, sometimes early.
It's that time now. I've been thinking about Jake quite a bit this last week, since I'm so used to sending him that email. Like that time when he was trying to grow his hair. For his birthday we kidnapped him, and ran blade-less clippers through his hair pretending to shave it off. Dude was deceivingly strong, and nearly ripped us to shreds. When it was safe for us to reappear, we celebrated properly.
Happy Birthday, man.
Monday, October 15, 2007
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