I’m anything but the biggest purveyor of sentiment around. There are
times and places, but I generally find events like birthdays and such
seeped in sappy sloppy sentiment worse than boorish. If it’s old
fashioned, then I’m old fashioned in that I think things are more
valuable and special when rare and infrequent. It’s a marginal utility thing. So save the sap and tears for times they really mean something.
Yep, there’s a time and place for weepy sentiment, but Frank’s 60th birthday this afternoon is neither the time nor the place as far as I’m concerned (his wife — my cousin — of around 20 years or so might disagree, I’m well aware). Frank is a real man, so he deserves — indeed needs and requires — a real man’s gift; which of course is a bottle of quality spirits.
Inside the card, the printed greeting reads:
"Happy Freakin’ Birthday!"
To which I added:
"…So have some Effen Vodka!"
Singed: "Richard and Bea (who will disavow any responsibility whatsoever for this)"
I addressed the card’s envelope to Frank@60.ohmygod