Another year older, another year wider.
Me and the lovely 'Jo' Rowling celebrate the not-especially-significant 44th anniversary of our births today - she, I do not doubt, in a manner befitting her glamourous lifestyle and hard-earned wealth, me with a curry at the local tandoori.
Cracking to have a birthday on a Friday though, eh Gromit?
According to the lodestone of eternal truth that is da Wiki, 44 is : the international telephone dialling code for the UK; the number of Barack Obama's presidency; a kind of Magnum revolver and associated blues tune; a Vicks cough suppressant.
Since I am not in possession of said blues tune and did the obvious 'post the Number 1 song when I was born' thing last year, here is a big Friday Smash Hits-reviewed disco floorfillin' Philly 12" in the traditional manner, with a suitably uplifting message perhaps reminding us, like Dickie and Miss Ally are always saying, that still being alive is, frankly, cause for celebration enough.
Poppadom?
McFadden & Whitehead - 'Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now' (12") (1979)
Happy birthday, Davy. I'll always be catching up with you, so yor heath, mental and otherwise, will provide a good marker as of what I can expect when I reach your age 8 months later.
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ReplyDeleteWell sir, Happy Birthday. Hope you look as good on it as JK does. Even without her plastic surgeon.
ReplyDeleteHave some Jimmy Delphs, Dancing A Hole In The World!
All the best Mr H. I will raise a glass to you this evening.
ReplyDeleteCracking tune.
Have a top one Davy what's your usual at the tandoori..
ReplyDeleteAnd the 12" too, I always thought Armand Van Helsing's- You Don't Know Me based itself in this tune
you're a non stop little celebration you are - many of the very most happy ones dearie and have a samosa on me
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Good age to be. Have some mod reggae on me...
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Many happy returns, Mr H.
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Happy Birthday, Mr. H -- all the best!
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday Davy, and may you enjoy many more. Great tune, danced to it at the 'Epping Forest Country Club' on many occassions, oh so many moons ago. Love the Candi Staton tracks on the previous post. Bought the album after hearing "He called me baby" on Drew's site, and reading you guy's recommendations. Thanks for the great music man, enjoy a Cobra or two, cheers.
ReplyDeleteIs it that time of year again already? Happy Birthday!
ReplyDeleteJust a thought - as you age you could change your avatar from Harry Palmer to Alfred the Butler, maybe via some 1970s 'what the fuck am I doing in this movie' images. Or perhaps not.
It is the Picture Of Dorian Gray Michael, always staying the same whilst my once youthful looks wither in a maelstrom of booze and depravity. Or something.
ReplyDeleteThanks one and all, you are loveliness personified squared and to the factor of n.
A rare sighting of the Lonesome Beth too, I am most honoured.
Prawn madras Mond. Though nothing as exciting as a bop at Epping Forest Country Club to follow, sadly.
x
PS: Simon! Tune!
ReplyDeleteThought you might like that one!
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday. I was just recounting our latest banter here to Mrs Darce and described you as "DavyH, 45". Sorry, I was a year out.
ReplyDeleteOn cue it's started raining (again) in Bristol but who cares - the thought of Candi a mere 4 miles away from me is too much, I'm going to see her! Aint no stopping me now!
Sorry to barge in. I'm a little bi tfrunk. 44 red balloons. take my coat young lady. is your father here? 500, 44 what is it? is ally here? Cant be, there's a full stop over there by the fishtank.
ReplyDeleteNothing to say to my old compardre davide except p[ass the nan and dont fart under the duvet darling - which was a a tony hatch song written for petula clark in 196-summat
Taxi for Van Dyke!
ReplyDeleteChampagne for Darce!
Happy, Happy, Happy!!!! Who knew you and m'blog were celebrating together? And that you were younger than I?!? You spry young thing, you! xoxox
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from my favorite album this year so far!
Oh dear. It's the next morning.
ReplyDeleteSorry for my enthusiasm with the phallic balloons, upchucking in the fishtank, the trail of mint yoghurt across the shag pile, the poor jokes and massaging the rabbit inappropriately.
I abandoned my car at the station and, as a penance, will now walk in the rain with my pumpkin-size head bowed in shame.
Forgive me.
Cor, thanks Tarty - contemporary tunes; spry indeed.
ReplyDeleteDickie, you don't remember the incident with the avocado do you? The chandeliers are a write off.
Thanks Dad ; )
ReplyDeletei'll full stop you when i get 'old of you you cheeky young tyke
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Ooh ally. I love it when you talk rough.
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Dear Davy, many belated happy returns of the day, young 'un. Sorry I haven't been around of late.
ReplyDeleteHappy belated, Davy Dear! I'd like to think I'd have been here to wish you well yesterday were it not for out-of-town parents coming in and my spending all my time with them, but I don't think I can fool myself or you. I am always a day late! :(
ReplyDeleteI hope you had a ton of fun with the Mrs. and the girls and that it was the most joyous yet!
And I agree - the most exciting thing for me on my birthday is simply still being alive. (Knock wood.)
I'm far too late to wish you a happy 44th, so I'd like to be the first to wish you a happy birthday for next year...
ReplyDeleteHappy 45th!
Cheeky!
ReplyDeleteLate to the party as always but the baby and I will disco dance around the sitting room in your honor tonight to this fantastic tune. Happy 500, happy 44th.
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Baby dancing, I like x
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday and happy 500, Davy! I can clearly recall 42 and 100, back in the early days. Tempus fugit, eh? Greetings from all of us here in the colonies...
ReplyDeleteAaaah, 42 and 100...a dream ago Emmett, a dream ago x
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