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Friday I wrote a long entry about my impending birthday.
And, I then forgot it on my memory stick in my briefcase as I drove off to the show 500km away.

I always like to perform on my birthday if I can. Some of my friends have been very nice to indulge me in this, even if it is one sword exchange with my wife in a drive way before going off to dinner.

But, this year we had a paying gig on my birthday and I got to be performing at the actual time of my birth. I think this is the first time in 61 years I’ve managed that.

The entertainment director came over to us Saturday and was talking about making schedule changes.
“But, not our 2:15 show, right?”
“No, I’m moving your 10:30 to 11:15 and your 12 to 12:45 so you don’t do two shows in a row.”
“Great. But, still 2:15, right?”
“Why do you care so much about that show?”
“I was born at 2:24 in the afternoon 61 years ago today and I really want to be performing when that time rolls around on the clock. Starting a show at 2:15 is perfect for that.”
“Happy birthday. You get to keep your show then.”

And, at 2:24 in the afternoon, Tom and I were doing the messer routine from Lecküchner’s 1478 manual that ends with me having two audience members throw a bag over Tom and sit on him.
That was pretty much perfect.

The musings about my age in comparison to the two Frank Hunts that came before me?
Well just know I had compared our ages down to the hour and knew all the percentages.