When you're born on August 27 and you grow up in an unairconditioned row home, birthdays are torture for both you and your guests.
As you can see from the homemade sign, I'm blowing out the candles on my 10th birthday. The year is 1975, which explains my Shaun Cassidy haircut.
Today is my 44th birthday. Tonight I'm going to see Peter Frampton, a man I deeply loved in 1976. (By then I was sporting the Dorothy Hamill look.)
When I was 10, I was thrilled to be getting older. Now, not so much.