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.

Cheers,
Dave

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.

TRADEGY STRIKES THE SPEECHWRITER ABODE

by “tragedy,” i mean alcohol, and by “speechwriter abode,” i mean dave and misha’s bodies.. that’s right, ladies and gentlemen, right now is dave lowensohn’s official 27th bday, and that means that the two of us have been drinking for the last many hours (sorry mom.. it’s dave’s bday.. i had to celebrate :)

“that’s great misha, thanks for the update,” you’re saying.. . “but what does it mean for us?”

several things:
1) you get to hear about our night: it was a good night.. it involved “the family guy,” a mini keg of grolsh beer, our world class rhythm section, and dave’s butt being squeezed by multiple women at the same time.
2) we’ve settled on the details of our “dave and misha turn 50 extravaganza:” here is what the day is going to look like:
3 to 6: Left of Santa Monica Pier, Big Deans: 1615 Ocean Front Walk. (310) 393-2666.. here is the description… “Big Dean’s is an afternoon must-stop. Pretty much the entire local population stops in there at one time or another during weekend days. The outdoor seating area faces the bike path, the cocktails are inexpensive and the tuna sandwich is delicious. It’s not a wild place, but it is hard to beat when time to take a break when it’s time for a late-afternoon break.” We’ll either be at BD’s, or just in front of it on the beach.. we’ll look roughly how we do on the internet.
6 to sunset: Chez Jay 1657 Ocean Ave. (310) 395-1741.. here is the description… “Chez Jay has been around for decades. In a no-frills manner, it has entertained Hollywood stars, local legends and those just lucky enough to know about it. A favorite haunt of Henry Kissinger, Chez Jays is recognizable by the gigantic conch in the parking lot. Inside, it has sawdust on the floor and because the bar sags in the middle, drinks rest at an angle.” we’ll be in here having a good time, and will go out to the beach just before sunset to enjoy the view and make ourselves healthier (elaboration on that point to come).
after sunset: Loews hotel.. not sure of the number.. it’s located south of the pier, and from 8 till 11pm there is a jazz band and a bar.. what more could you want..

i think dave is actually drunk enough to post his cell phone number on the internet, (which i am wholeheartedly endorsing :) so i’m going to bid you all adieu, pass him the laptop, and see the brave on saturday.

hayduk.
misha

On Reclaiming The Birthday

Speechwriters LLC keeps a PO box out in Claremont. It’s small but effective. Every week or so, one of us treks out there to see if we got anything exciting, and there’s usually something fun, like a postcard or a magazine or an eviction notice, waiting for us inside. Sometimes it’s a package, and we have to bring our little slip up to the counter and have Meg bring it up from the back room.

This past week I went out to our box, and poor Meg had almost been physically crushed by fifty cubic feet of our mail. For those of you who haven’t been following the ever-evolving saga of our household and website, Misha had an epiphany a few weeks ago that birthdays stop being automatic after 21, and that unless you get extremely proactive about making them the highlight of your calendar year, it’s all too easy for them to slip quietly into the abyss, leaving you with nothing but a Just My Style card from your mom, a dead flower in a styrofoam cup from HR, and, if you’re in a relationship, something new and exciting in the bedroom that will ultimately leave you freaked out at what your partner considers a “gift” and terrified that you’re way too vanilla for 21st century America.

Misha, never content with mediocrity, decided to take this bull by the horns and put out an APB in the days leading up to his 23rd birthday. Nitzan laughed at him, while Jack and I just shook our heads at how ridiculous it all seemed. “Misha,” we scolded him, “this is hubris. Outrageous arrogance. You’re angering the gods, and this can only end badly.”

But look at how wrong we were. It’s May 24th, and everything here is still standing. Misha’s asleep in his hyperbaric tube, surrounded by presents and memories of a truly epic birthday weekend for which there was no outwardly visible opportunity cost. How this happened remains a total mystery to the rest of us, but as the next man in line, I feel I owe it to both myself and my band to follow in his footsteps.

My birthday’s coming up on June 2nd, and it’s going to be a big one.

I’m turning 27, which is exciting on a number of levels.

Level One: Twenty-seven is the age at which an unusually high number of popular musicians have died. Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison and Brian Jones, just to name a few. This puts me in an exciting position, because I’m going to spend most of the next year wondering if I’m about to die, and then I’m going to be thoroughly depressed when I make it to 28 and realize that I’ve missed my window for canonization as a timeless rock legend.

Level Two: Misha and I are suddenly going to have a combined age of 50, which is cool as hell.

And those are really the only two levels I can think of. But the bottom line is, my birthday’s coming up in just over a week, and I will not go quietly into the night. I’m going to make as huge a deal out of it as I can, and I’m going to party like it’s 1978. And I’m even going to reprint the band mailing address here, just in case anybody feels like sending me anything:

Dave Lowensohn
112 Harvard Ave #112
Claremont, CA 91711

Hear me when I say: Take back your birthday, America. You have no idea how good it feels.