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Happy birthday BradM!!!!


Im going home Donny

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Happy Birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to Ottawa's premier taper, researcher, post maker, move helper, show goer, furniture storer, tucked shirt wearer, great hug giver, music sharer, overall contributer and hellova guy.

Happy Birthday to you.

Have a good one Brad. You deserve it! :)

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Happy Birthday BradM!!! Open your eyes while waiting for the bus!!! You looked like a zombie yesterday...Must have been a long day!

The date: Labour Day Weekend, 2003.

The location: Thousand Islands border crossing into the USA.

The players: Graham (driving, wearing green 'nero' t-shirt), LJFH (front seat, passenger side), FreekerByTheSpeaker (back seat, passenger side), doubleB (back seat, in the middle, getting probed by the centre console), BradM (back seat, driver's side, also wearing green 'nero' t-shirt), T. Bridor (US Customs & Immigraton officer)

T. Bridor, to BradM: You look stoned, Brad. Are you stoned?

BradM: No, I look like this all the time. Look at my passport picture!

Note that Mr. Bridor had not, at this point, actully opened my passport. He remembered my name from a crossing 11 months before, a crossing during which I was left at a loss for words. Think about this for a minute: you've read what I've written, and a lot of you have spoken to me. I use a lot of words; I speak precisely, almost exhaustively (in the sense of covering as much/many of the bases as possible). This freakshow of a guard left me speechless...

The date: October, 2002.

The location: Thousand Islands border crossing into the USA.

The players: FreekerByTheSpeaker (driving), Graham (front seat, passenger side), LJFH (back seat, driver's side), BradM (back seat, passenger side), T. Bridor (US Customs & Immigraton officer)

T. Bridor, to BradM, sitting diagonally opposite to the driver, in his best 3rd-grade-teacher voice: Bradley...

(At this point, a chill went down my spine...)

T. Bridor: ...you're being awfully quiet back there...

Which was true: I hadn't said more than a couple of words since we got to the gate, and he hadn't asked me anything directly; even the "quiet" thing wasn't a question to be answered, it was a statement of fact.

Now what the heck do I do? I muttered something about not having much to say, and the crossing proceeded within the bounds of what most would consider psychic torture...dogs were discussed, FreekerByTheSpeaker claimed that The Other Ones (whom we were going to see in Albany) weren't really into drugs, "they drink, mostly...", and on and on. We got through, physically none the worse for wear but (at least on the part of your humble scribe) emotionally scarred for life, especially to have the person and the process repeat itself less than a year later...

Aloha,

Brad

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so, were you Born Right At Dawn?

I'm not sure. I've always had it in my head that I was born at 6:28am, which I used to use an excuse to justify sleeping in: since I had been born so early, I could rigtfully stay in bed until noon to help make up for it.

Except that, even if I had been born that early, it was still, in fact, quite late: 10 days late, in fact*.

After my emergence, one of the nurses commented to my Mom, "April Fool's Day, what a terrible day to have a child."

My Mom responded, through gritted teeth: "When they're ten days late, you don't care anymore."

Aloha,

Brad

* My older brother was also 10 days late. About the 7th or 8th day into my lateness, the doctor commented to my Mom, "Well, things seem normal..."

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One final synchronicitic funny for y'all: I got a birthday card from my Mom yesterday. On the front is a drawing of a human-sized cat, with a strapped-on electric guitar, leaning on a set of guitar amps, obviously decked out as a "cool cat" musician. In front of him is a microphone stand, and if you look close, the artist's name (and a copyright year) is emblazoned on the base of the stand.

The artist's name? BRADLEY

Aloha,

Brad

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