My eldest turned 21 today. He reached his “majority,” that milestone in the law whereby he can enter into a binding contract, buy a bottle of tequila, get married without permission …
I’m stunned to be the parent of an adult. All trite comments and cliches about “they grow up so fast” and “they’ll be driving before you know it” apply. I can’t believe it was 21 years ago, as the Red Sox tilted at another failed World Series and his poor mother endured 24 hours of labor, that he came into this world, freaking us out as the world’s most important biology experiment.
Tonight we talked about the Sox as they went down 2 to 4 in Game 3 of the ACLS. He’s more of a fan that I ever was, pulling me along with him back into that New England obsession that I vowed never to invest time in again after Buckner fumbled the ball. I’ve loved to embellish his birth story by telling him he popped into this world at the exact instant that the poor gimpy first baseman made his epic error, but that isn’t true, that happened ten days later, when he was home with his mother and me, a human pupae.
It sounds better my way.
He blogs about the movies at http://www.churbuck.com/cinemania
This is one of his namesakes (the other is T.S. Eliot), the greatest maritime historian, Samuel Eliot Morison.
Happy birthday Eliot!
Happy birthday, Eliot!.
Did you know:
“Mr. Mojo Rising” was an anagram for Samuel Eliot Morrison’s grandson, Jim Morrison of UCLA Film School and “Doors” fame.
I can hardly wait to see your first film.
Peace and haved a great day, Eliot.
Jim Forbes
Happy B-day El, seems like just a little while ago I was drawing dino’s for you! Cheers Yer uncle.
I can’t wait til I can call my daughter a human pupae. Right now she’s too young for it to have the desired effect.
anybody who’s dragging you back into the Sox is worthy of my compliments, so:
happy bday 😉
Yeah, I remember the little tike running around that Boston apartment with the green walls and a desk in the bedroom and B’s crib in the living room…
It’s astounding how old he can make me feel.
A good egg, that one. You should be proud.
Happy birthday and I tip one to you, though it be empty of ale. Looks like my Rockies are—no they are not mine actually. Good luck to those boys in white and red. Maybe they’ll get count Chocula to play for them next year too. I’ll send em a bottle of helmet cleaner in the mean time.