Something I have long feared about getting older: that birthdays will lose their magic.
I celebrated my birthday last week along with Ed Harris, Jon Stewart, Randy Newman and Judd Nelson. Anna Nichole Smith, I also learned, was born on the same year and day that I was.
We were in New York for the week while our daughter stayed with her grandparents. My wife wanted to go to Rockefeller Center to see Manilow (known in our home merely as 'Barry' or sometimes 'Barris') and just before he went on stage my daughter called me up on my cell phone and said, "Happy Birthday, Dad." And up to that moment the fact that it was my birthday had escaped both me and my wife.
Leave it to a seven-year-old to remember what's important. And leave it to a seven year old to bring a little excitement back into one's birthday by being the only one in the family to remember it.
(In their defense, pals Todd and Mike would chime in shortly thereafter with emailed birthday wishes of their own).
So here's a belated happy birthday wish to Dave's late-night buddy and bandleader Paul Shaffer!