happy-birthday

http://live.pirillo.com/ – Go me, it's my birthday! Go me!

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<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qET5JJ2Ut-0"></aram><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qET5JJ2Ut-0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><a href="http://chris.pirillo.com/">Chris</a> | <a href="http://live.pirillo.com/">Live Tech Support</a> | <a href="http://media.pirillo.com/">Video Help</a> | <a href="http://feeds.pirillo.com/ChrisPirilloShow">Add to iTunes</a>;

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My birthday was quite stressful (working on Gnomedex and Lockergnome stuff), but it was also very fun. The Internet has changed the way I celebrate my birthday, wholly. Buddies from a variety of social networks have been sending their best wishes throughout the day (ICQ, Skype, FaceBook, MySpace, etc.). It’s been overwhelming, but in a very nice way. If you were awake last night, you may have seen this happen in my home office – as captured by one of my Australian friends. Ponzi tried to coordinate everyone in chat to sing “happy birthday” at the same time.

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Just like I wrote earlier… it’s my birthday. Birthdays are fun, aren’t they? On my fifth birthday, I got to fly around in a Cessna plane above the city of Des Moines, IA (thinking I wanted to become a pilot). On my sixth birthday, my parents hired a magician (thinking I wanted to become a prestidigitator). On my seventh birthday, I don’t remember much because someone spiked the fruit punch (just kidding, but wouldn’t that make a wonderful story for the grandkids). On my eighth birthday, I stopped keeping track of my birthdays as I was quickly becoming… an “old man.â€Â? Remember the days when “21″ was old? Neither do I – and they say that memory is the first thing to go. The only thing I want this year is a bigger chest.

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