Alright. It’s just about 4am on a schoolnight. Four hours into the actual anniversary of my birth, and Misha and I are already drunk. No apologies to my mother, only love, and gratitude that June 2nd, 1978 didn’t see her smashing my fontanelle in with a rock as a pre-emptive strike against this. Alcohol is a terrible thing – the wet spit of the devil, as far as we’re concerned – but every now and then we have to drink it, just to keep up appearances, and this is one of those times. This Saturday will be another.
Misha has posted detailed instructions on how to participate in our joint 50th birthday party, which will take place from 3pm until question marks this Saturday, June 4th. But the key points you should take home from this are:
3 to 6pm = Left of Santa Monica Pier / Big Deans (1615 Ocean Front Walk)
Our time will be divided evenly between the beach and the bar, depending on the weather. We’re probably going to be wearing red, either as T-shirts or as tans gone wrong. Here are some pictures of us so you’ll know who to look for.
6 to sunset = Chez Jay (1657 Ocean Ave.)
Hopefully this place is cool. I will be perfectly honest with you and say that we’re going solely on internet recommendations here.
After sunset = Loews hotel (1700 Ocean Ave.)
We played a party here a few weeks ago, and Loews is simply where it’s at. Dress to impress, and don’t be surprised it you wind up making out with Shannon Doherty, because it’s that kind of party.
And rest assured, this is a full-band event. Kind of like a Speechwriters concert, except that instead of making you pay a cover and then having a three minute conversation with you after the show, we’re just hanging out at the beach for a full calendar day. The thugs who run Handwoven Records have insisted on this, for PR purposes, and there’s just not that much else we can do at this point.
Anyone reading this is welcome to come along, although I should re-mention that three of the three places we’re going to are bars, so if you’re under 21 and really want to slap an actual Speechwriter, I would recommend coming to the part of the beach right in front of Big Dean’s and looking for a Malaysian, an Irishman, an Israeli, and whatever the fuck I am between the hours of 3 and 6pm.
Presents are, obviously, neither required nor expected. Although thank you, again, to everyone who sent me one – they were all unexpectedly thoughtful, and the whole thing has sort of been a quick recap of just how many truly great friends I’ve made along the way to wherever it is I am now, and it’s been a great birthday so far.
So you guys are the best. But now I’m going to go pass out.
PS: Happy birthday to my birthday twin Paul Dryden. Although I bet my mom was in labor for longer than yours, and my hospital was cooler.