The Birthday Issue

On this 33rd anniversary of my birth, that day in West Lafayette, IN, known cosmically as "Houston: We Have A Problem," or "Woops!" I find myself ascribing meaning to every little thing I see and hear, which many people do when it is New Years Eve or when they're about to die.
So, when I heard "Jack and Diane" by John Cougar Mellencamp on the classic rock station first thing this morning, and listened to that poor Springsteen-knockoff's bluesy refrain, "Life goes on/Long after the thrill of livin it is gone...," I paused. Sure, he was talking about a mediocre career, foretelling a rapid descent after he got rid of his middle name. But what about me? Was it true?
Was the thrill gone?
And then I proceeded to have a "duh" moment and reject his premise entirely. The thrill will never leave, because I carry thrill inside of me like a flower carries pollen, like computers carry software, like Ridonkucris carries vanilla candles. But also, the thrill will never leave in no small way because of you guys -- my friends, old and new, distant and familiar. So, I wanted to express my gratitude to you all for your friendships. I hope we can be, stay or become closer, and potentially all live near each other, near a beach somewhere, perhaps a Mediterranean coast -- some place involving date palm trees. That'd be good.
At one time or another, you all have either invited me to your house, fed me, counseled me, dissed me, made me laugh, sought to understand me, gotten a headache as a result, hugged me, given me gifts for no particular reason, or been supportive and wonderful and generally people I emulate, esteem and love. So thank you.
Love,
Porcupine