« Halftime! |
| James Joyce, a poet and a prophet »
Posted by Claudia Muir at 05:00 AM in TMI | Permalink
You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.
Happy Passover, happy birthday and happy everything else that's appropriate.
[I'll now go back to awaiting the invasion of Australia.]
Syd Webb |
April 12, 2006 at 03:18 PM
My first reaction was "Half-time? well that's silly, surely not"
This stemmed from my inexplicable inability to do simple math.
-a bit deflated now that I worked it out (I am older than you) but this is YOUR day so I should be happy.
it is also my nephew's birthday - I haven't gotten him anything yet either. (twists string on finger)
Francis Burdett |
April 12, 2006 at 06:58 PM
Half-time going by male life expectancy in the U.S. in the year of my birth (which was not in the 1960s, thank God).
I've already heard the Dante quip. (I do have to wonder who would be my Vergil.) And I am sure my mom will send me an e-mail about estate planning.
But thank you all, birthday well-wishers past, present, and yet to come. L'chaim!
April 12, 2006 at 07:41 PM
CDC basis? Plenty of room left on the survival curve beyond the mean, and you're not one of those high-risk lives, anyway.
Well, as far as I know.
Though evidence of attraction to Winona Ryder-types might hint at some underlying level of danger.
Anyway, happy B-day! Be a curve buster!
Bernard Guerrero |
April 12, 2006 at 08:40 PM
>(which was not in the 1960s, thank God).
/cough/ b*****d /cough/ :-)
Francis Burdett |
April 13, 2006 at 12:10 AM
After I debussed you under fire by the Forest Hills OTB, Becky's Dave and I did slivovitz shots(Jelinek!) until midnight, finished the Seder with extreme prejudice (Hallel? I'll see your Hallel and raise you that two-bit goat! Hah!). My head is gefüllt mit guncotton, and this gigantic cockroach named Gregor is telling me to clean up before noon because the dtrites du Pascua all is *so* disgusting in the harsh light of morn.
Partay! And my comment re: squares I think I was thinking about perfect numbers, but that was after four glasses of wine, much less sleep than usual, and typically neurotic insanity.
We hold the birthday cake for security against future misbehavior - happy birthday!
The New York City Math Teacher |
April 13, 2006 at 04:16 PM
The slivovitz, like the company, was excellent! amazing matzo ball soup, and remember my suggestion of the brisket plus the aioli.
April 13, 2006 at 06:34 PM
Happy, belated, BDay, Carlos.
Sorry, nothing profound to say at the moment.
Will Baird |
April 13, 2006 at 07:33 PM
Happy birthday C. It's a good time to be born; mine was last week.
I'm not sure what halfway is for my birthdate and locale, but I think I passed it a couple of years ago. Makes you think about how much time we spend on the way down.
James Bodi |
April 14, 2006 at 03:18 AM
Out of curiosity, where would one find such stats? Based on my family history, I think I'm past half way. Odd thought. Doesn't really worry me - not much I can do about it one way or the other!!
April 14, 2006 at 06:53 AM
This is a handy chart for the U.S.
[checks] Hm. Apparently I had the wrong figures. By gender, it turns out my halftime birthday was actually two years ago.
[SF/X of coffin door creaking shut] Dammit.
So let's just strike out that word 'male' and round up, shall we? I blame my cataracts.
(Actually, I feel pretty good. A young woman passing by the little get-together asked me if it was my 25th, and when I said older than that, concluded it was my 30th. Whoever you are, you made my night.)
April 14, 2006 at 07:28 AM
/is now trying to map the Halfway Down the Danube crew onto the Doom Patrol
Chet Arthur |
April 14, 2006 at 07:59 AM
The original, the Grant Morrison, or one of the awful revivals?
Basically, all versions but the original and the Morrisson should be ignored. And the Morrisson, you only want the issues before #30 or so, and after #48. The middle 18 months or so, he was doing an awful lot of drugs. (Not speculation; Morrison acknowledged it freely a few years later.) The whole Hussites in space sequence? Mushrooms.
That said, Doom Patrol #57 (1992) has possibly the finest retcon in all comics history ever. It reveals that the Chief was really... no, no, it's just too damn brilliant to give away here. You can buy it on eBay for a few bucks; do so; you won't be sorry.
(And while you're there, make sure you get issue #63 too -- "The Empire of Chairs", quite simply one of the best comic book stories ever written.)
Doug M. |
April 14, 2006 at 10:29 AM
Damn, I knew I should come back and read this thread again. So, my expected life expectancy is 69, eh? Well, if my paternal grandfather is any guide, then I've got a good chance of just plain living forever. Baird genes seem to have some longevity and resilence built in.
Grandpop is almost 83 (born 1922) and fought in WW2, Korea, and Vietnam. He's licked three cancers too. Drinks, smokes, and was a career soldier (wounded a few times too). The SOB just won't die. My umpty-grandfather, if my great aunt who is a nut about geneology is right, lived past 100 and he came over here in 1683 after having been exiled from Scotland (a "captain" of the Conventers...tsk)
We'll see if it holds true still. If it doesn't, I am a couple years away from my half way point. If it does, hell, I've got more than a decade to go. ;)
Will Baird |
April 19, 2006 at 03:42 AM
The comments to this entry are closed.