My birthday is somewhat of a hassle.  Don’t get me wrong, I have the best birthday ever, but nonetheless it’s a hassle.  You see, I was born on Christmas day.  Yes, THE day – not Christmas the week or Christmas the month or Christmas the year – Christmas day.  If there are other Christmas days that aren’t on the 25th, I’m unaware of them and I definitely wasn’t born on them. Several of you have heard this all before.  Hang in there.

The origin of the hassle comes from all of the negotiating and wrangling that occurs every year. Apparently other people see the day as more than just my birthday.  (People get funny ideas sometimes.)  Still, they’d like to be with their own families (or so they claim).  With my own family, growing up with divorced parents, I got to enjoy the hassle of the tug-of-war – who got me for Christmas birthday, who had me last year, could the day be split between the two and which grandparents would I get to slice the cranberry gelatinous congealed sludge worm with.  A battle that could be “lost” depending on the viewpoint of the parent. Should the parent who saw it as a win or lose thing in fact lose, dramatic sulking could ensue – always a special birthday treat.  Seeing friends on my actual birthday was out of the question. Once I went away to college I learned that neither parent really cared for Christmas (but they swear they like my birthday) so needless to say its become a little less troublesome (political?) over the years.

Lovey! (We’ll get to this part in a bit.)

That leaves my friends.

Each year we lay out the birthday/Christmas plan – something that gets my friends together before they head off to see their families. Something they hopefully see as a fun, if not a wholly silly, thing to do together.  From roller skating to pizza parties to David Sedaris to light strolls and always finishing with a little ABBA, we’ve done some fun things. (Even if we caused someone to quit their job by asking for silverware.)

This year I believe we’re singing.  We may be singing badly, but there will be singing. So that part is taken care of.  (This is kind of an early warning post to get everyone prepared. Do your “ne-hi-hos”.  No Jennifer, not “knee-high hos”.  For shame.)

Now to the question of presents.  I’m old.  I don’t need any presents.  I just need your presence.  See what I did there? I know, something every pastor has done every year, but I’m claiming it today.  This comes up every year, because people never truly believe that I don’t need them.

Well this year, for the first time, I’m asking for a present.  A special present.  The reason for this blog post kind of present. And with this request you’ll understand why I’m having to mention it early, this is going to take some preparation.

I want a musical number.  Yes, my friends.  I want you on a stage.  I want you singing.  I want choreography and I want the smoke machine.  (Please warm it up pre-dance number.  A “lessons learned” from the past.) You’ve got roughly 9 weeks to form a plan, rehearse and book a stage. Coordinating costumes and puppets are optional.  However, “Lovey” is not so someone better talk to Topping. There needs to be a Lovey cameo/dance bomb – like a photo bomb, but with choreography. (You could also purchase one of Lovey’s cousins for bonus points; he could also be in the production. Dream big!)  Please note regardless of crazy stuffed critters making an appearance: break out solos are welcome. Tap numbers are VERY welcome!  Encouraging me to join you guys briefly in my own cheetah print tap shoes.  WHOA!

That is all.  I look forward to singing with you guys and of course, my birthday present.  Now watch this video for inspiration.  No seriously, watch it: