Thursday, April 06, 2006
This here blog is pretty much Pat's show, so I rarely post here unless it's a special occasion. And today, April 6, is most definitely a special occasion. It's Patrick's 37th Birfday!
(Until Pat posted all those pictures, I kinda thought it was tomorrow -- but you know how these things go. Good thing I wrote this thing up ahead of time!)
While I often think of myself as a charter member of the Pat Angello Fan Club, in fact I was pretty late to arrive on the scene. Pat's brother Tony, and his sister Cynthia, became the original members when Pat arrived on the scene somewhere in Europe (Patrick rarely admits it, but it's true: he's really French). His parents joined up several weeks later, explaining the brief delay to an advertised "trial period," during which they were at a loss to explain why he was so inefficient at cleaning up crumbs on shag carpet. Their PAFC membership became official when they realized they mixed up his documentation with that of an Oreck vacuum they had purchased on April Fool's Day that year.
The "second generation" of the Pat Angello Fan Club started when his nephews, Ari and Danny, arrived on the scene. Predictably, Pat has corrupted all his nieces and nephews in the ensuing years. I am pretty sure they still sleep in Megadeth pajamas, at least that's what I am told.
Pat and I both lived in the Sundance Hills neighborhood in southeast Denver at more or less the same time. We had mutual friends, we roamed the streets of the neighborhood at night and performed debaucherous acts of hooliganism, and we frequented the neighborhood swimming pool. But we never knew each other. I am still at a loss to explain that. In any case, while he was living in the same neighborhood as I, Pat was amassing dozens of Pat Angello Fan Club members. I was not among them.
It would be several years before I became a member of the Pat Angello Fan Club. Pat went to Cherry Creek HS, where throngs of Fan Club members signed on the dotted line. I did not go to CCHS. Then he shipped himself of to Omaha, where he hung with the "Creighton Coolios." Lots of people signed up for the PAFC there, too. I patiently awaited my turn at PAFC glory.
Meanwhile, coincidentally, both Pat's parents and mine moved to a small development right next to Sundance. We still never met each other, despite the neighborhood containing just 20 homes. So it goes.
I finally got my chance to sign up for the PAFC when we were both hired to work at a local record store, CompactDiscovery. Both of us refer to those days as the "glory days" of our post-college employment, in spite of the fact we never really made any money. It was an awful lot of fun: two new friends quickly became best friends while pretending to know how to manage a retail establishment and listening to tons and tons of music. Did I mention we got lots of free stuff, too? Well, we did. That's why we called them the "glory days."
That was 15 years ago. I have since moved from Colorado to North Carolina, but I still consider myself a big member (heh, I typed... uh, never mind) of the Pat Angello Fan Club. Pat's wife, Katy, is probably more involved with the PAFC than I am (and that's the way it should be), but I like to think I'm a PAFC vice president of sorts. In fact, you can call me the Chancellor of the Exchequer of the Pat Angello Fan Club. That suits me fine.
I call Pat whenever I am bored (and he always answers the phone -- pretty cool, if you ask me, since most people I call don't bother to pick up). We email, we IM. We finish each other's sentences. And, like the dorks we are and were forever fated to be, we play XBox Live games until he gets too good at whatever game we're playing for me to enjoy myself anymore (which just happened in NHL 2K6, and which is in the process of happening in Links 2004).
Bottom line, here's the deal:
Pat's a great friend, a best friend. But more than that, he's one of the kindest, most caring people I have ever met. And he only gets better with each birfday. So, Patrick, from me to you: Happy Birfday, buddy!
(In case you're wondering, we are not gay. But we do know gay people. Does that count?)
So, if you're a member of the Pat Angello Fan Club (and I know, if you're reading this, you are), drop him a line or leave him a Comment and let him know you want his 37th birfday to be a special one.
And then ask yourself, what would Blinky do? I think you know the answer to that.