Kind of weird if you really stop to think about, the notion of birthdays. Celebrating the day your mother asked for more drugs. The day she was terrified of having your father in the delivery room, for fear of crapping on the table. Yet, it’s a ritual that reminds us of how precious life is, and more importantly, gives us a reason to indulge, to pop open a bottle, to light a fire, to make wishes that last, and to lick lots of frosting.

Happy Birthday, Phil. I love you.