Orange you glad I didn't get bananas?

It's Chris' week. (I don't call him Topher. Never have, never will. Sorry, Chris.) After all the great posts, including his, I thought that it would be best for me to close things out with two things:

1. He hates bananas.
2. Present an interview with Chris Clark himself—via his preferred method of communication: text message.

What's the first birthday you remember?

"The first birthday I remember was about age three. We lived in Littleton, Colorado. My Grandma Clark came to visit and she gave me a gum-ball machine. I also got a little trike which I rode in some puddles."

What are the five most memorable birthday presents?

"1. A Might Men and Monster Maker 2. A Weeble-Wobble Haunted House 3. A sleeping bag that was a giant lifesaver! 4. A DVD player from my friends. 5. My mission companion fed an old lady bananas at a rest home so I didn't have to."

Have you ever lied about your age? When? Why?

"Yes. I used to say I was 13 to get into PG-13 movies even though nobody ever asked or cared."

If money was no object, what would you ask for for your birthday?

"I would actually ask for money, even though it's no object. I would pay off my house. Or pay off my student loans. I think if I could just ask for $100,000, I would be in super great shape."

Why is The Host your favorite movie this year so far?

"There's just something magical about it. And I relate to it. I also have really blue eyes. And I have a bratty, horrible teenage girl in my head. I also love to grow wheat in caves and eat nothing but breadsticks and rolls."

What can I get you for your birthday?

"A pony. A hug. $100,000."

Happy birthday, Chris. When we first met and ate Del Taco while watching Alias, I thought we'd be great friends. I'm glad I was right. You're the bee's knees.

True Friends Will Tell You What They Want

This picture has nothing to do with my post. But it is Topher's brithday party last year. It was a costume party, because of course it was. 

Topher has been my friend for a long time. And of all my friends, he is one of the few who's birthday I actually remember. The main reson for that is because he always lets you know when his birthday is coming. And he always tells you what he wants. Which I appreciate. You'll say, "Chris, what can I get you for your birthday?" And he'll say "Well, you can either get me the Elizabeth on DVD, but I think my mom is getting that, so you should get me the LA Confidential DVD." (This was, obvs, a conversation we would have had in the late 90s.)

He's not greedy. He doesn't solicit gifts. But if you want to get him a gift, he doesn't need a surprise, or sumpin' special that proves how much you know and love him. He just wants something that he wants and so he tells you what it is. And you buy it. And he is gracious and happy and grateful. Transaction completed.

One year in college, Topher really wanted a DVD player. This was when DVD players were big and expensive and rare, like Unicorns that provided director's commentary. He would never have dreamed of asking for one, because he was a poor college student, married to a poor college student with a bunch of friends who were poor college students. But a bunch of us decided to to pool our money and buy him one. Can you imagine having to pool your money with several people to buy a DVD player? I think you can get one now for about $15. Or as a prize in a happy meal. But these were the dark, rough days of the early aughts when technology was big and ugly and expensive. It was a fun gift to give, because I think he was genuinely surprised and delighted and he was the first person I knew who owned a DVD player and it was kind of cool. (And then a few years later he decided to create "Classic Movie Night" where he  would invite us all over to watch classic (read: boring) movies. Have you seen Bringing up Baby? I don't really remember much except it was terrible and about a dinosaur and a woman who was born on the side of a hill. I rued the day we bough the DVD player, then. And it caused me to create "The Dawson's Creek Directive" wherein I do not consume media that was created before "Dawson's Creek." (1998))

So if you want to know what to get Topher for his birthday, you should just ask him. He'll let you know. Maybe his DVD of Bringing Up Baby is getting worn after repeated viewings and needs replacing. Or you could go in with a bunch of friends and buy a really expensive piece of technology. What would that even be nowadays? A 3D Printer? A rocket ship? But whatever you do, don't get him the Elizabeth DVD. I think his mom already got him that.

What Do You Get the Guy Who Has Everything?

So you all have one of those friends, you know the one, who is dripping in accolades, swimming in adoration, drowning in perfection. And then that stinking paramount goes and has himself a birthday and you find yourself standing in a Seven-11 at midnight contemplating making one of those posters where you use candy bars to tell the person they are a 'Big Hunk' worth 'One Hundred Grand'.  Well, it's miserable.

I have one such friend who is having his birthday this week (yes, week; apparently his mother was in labor for 168 hours) and here's the thing...he's got freaking everything! Perfect wife.  Perfect kids.  Perfect house. Gold Lexus. I mean really...it's gold...probably real gold, for crying out loud.

I first met him in his perfect house while being doted on by his perfect wife with two of his perfect kids running around my feet.  I was young and single and dating my future wife and he was old and married and saddled with children and a mortgage, and I remember this clear thought, "I want what he has."  And you know, not in a creepy single white female way...I mean, yes, I thought about moving into his basement and methodically undermining him to his wife, parents, and children and then slowly and steadily easing him out of his own life. I thought about it, but I didn't. But sitting there on his micro suede sofa, I caught a vision of what my life could be.  And it changed me.  I could have stayed selfish, sexy, and single for the rest of my life, but when I met him and glimpsed his well-planned life, I wanted one.

And so, after ten years of cobbling together my own version of his life, I find myself sitting in my own little house with my own little wife and my own two little kids running around my own two feet, and he is to thank. Who he was changed who I was. And I am so lucky to have been given such a moment. And even now, thinking about such a dear friend, and as it turns out, I still want his life. No, like, for reals. So I'm going back to my original plan.  Even now I am crouched in the corner of his master bathroom, typing as quietly as...hang on...
         Okay sorry, typing as quietly as I can, trying to decide if his deodorant tastes more like mountain flowers or hotel air freshener...mountain flowers.

Anyway, I guess the only thing I can give him this year for his birthday, is the gift of myself.  Or rather the gift of myself standing at the end of his bed taking notes of his sleep habits and painting his toes with my eyelashes.

Happy Birthday, Chris. I'm in your pillow.