Wednesday, October 13, 2010



- the Rubicon has been passed.

More precisely:

-  more than half of my life ...

that is if I do reach my aim - 113 years.


From now on - for the coming 56 years - I shall not make (m)any compromises, anymore.

It's time:
56 years - minus or plus x - to speak out.

Not necessarily in English.

And please: No funeral eulogies before October 14, 2066.

Thank you.


  1. Lifting my glass to the next half of your life. As you said last year: Off to new shores! My very best wishes, Sean. With all my heart!:)

  2. I think 113 sounds like a fine age to aim for! All the best Sean :-)

  3. So that´s many happy returns indeed!


  4. Happy Birthday dear friend.... many many wonderful and sweet years to come....

    PS: I just turned 43 a month ago and got my first reading glasses.... I am glad I held out this long... :):)

  5. Happy birthday, good sir! I raise my mug to the east: to Seanhenge and its youthful host.

    If you count the time leading up to your appearance onstage, you can sneak a good many more months into the count.

  6. Many happy returns Sean< I look forward to an invite to celebrated birthday 113

  7. As I'm enjoying an ale at the moment (a rare occurence for me), I raise my glass to the prospect of another 56 years of Sean! Slainte, sir!

  8. Happy Birthday and cheers to the next 56 :-)

  9. I've just got my odd little friends that nobody believes in to use their spacetime-zippety-dippety-light-sight-machine (I know, but that is what they call it) to let me have a look at your 112th birthday party Sean and I can report the following: Claude has got a very big red bonnet on top of her long blonde hair, seems to be slightly tipsy, and keeps calling you "young man"; Boris the cat has a tiny computer and loudspeaker attached to his back with a cable plugged into his ear and keeps trying to explain Schrodinger's wave equation to Jams, who appears to just be a head in a jar being pulled along by Ted; my wife is walking arm in arm with a big skinny lizard and talking fondly of her "first husband, the human one, who disappeared during a walk in the woods." Everyone seems to be having a great time, Ted has just filled Jams' jar with beer, much to Jams' obvious delight, and CherryPie has just walked in and screamed "I've reached my target weight! Cut be a big slice of cake!" Ruth is sitting in the corner with a bald guy on her knee and saying "Meet my new Toy Boy - he's only 99." So raise a glass to my future memory and have fun. And although I "disappeared", it turns out I'm actually on a planet very far away delivering my services to the young girls from the repopulation programme. Everybody is very, very happy, and on a 3-d screen in the corner Scotland are beating Germany 3-nil in the world cup final, although Sean has not noticed this yet. Something to look forward to for everybody.

  10. Update from the party... Jams' new body has just arrived and is being sticheded on as I watch, yes, I watch, because I have been beamed into the cake in the middle of the room, have just jumped out, my wife is giving me a big cuddle and kiss and her skinny lizard 3rd husband, while looking slightly downcast, is saying "Oh well, she wouldn't have wanted me after I shed my skin in any case." All's well that ends well. If only they could find a cure for insomnia, and wild lunatic fantasising. Goodnight.

  11. Dear Sean,
    The Universal Cosmic Conscientiousness must have drawn me to your site today. What a great day to visit … I love a party!!

    Have a very happy birthday!! Wishing you many more years of health, happiness, love and laughter.

  12. Thank you all very much.
    And sorry that once again I was busy with not replying sooner.
    There had some tiny problems to be solved.
    Hopefully more later this evening.

  13. I'd like to offer you one of my favorite birthday wishes in honor of this momentous occasion: May you die in bed at 115, shot by a jealous spouse.

    It sounds like a grand party Andrew has foreseen and one that I shall endeavor to attend so long as there's no upward age limit.

    Once again, best wishes for a bright and beautiful new year.

  14. Happy Belated Birthday Sean. Sounds like a good goal to me!

  15. Happy birthday a bit late, Sean. I'm sure you'll make it!

  16. Happy belated birthday Sean.)
    Just a few days after O.)

  17. Claude,
    hope your raised arm did not get numb :)
    after all, finding time to lift my glass - with a fine drop of an eleven years old Greek wine -

    thank you very much for your good wishes. Yes, 113 is a fine age to reach to. Although, meanwhile I think 115 would be nice, too, as I am so curious to if Susan's wishes will come true. :)

    dank je van harte, mijn vriend!

    wonderful and sweet (56) years to come; now these are prospects. Thank you so much - and belated 'Happy Birthday' to you.
    [In case you can/could not read the above properly, please check your nose; there might be no glasses riding on it :)]

    go raibh míle maith agat, mo cara!

    To think of these very months is, indeed, much nicer and less confusing than thinking of whereto I'd vanished had I been born October 13th, 1582. :)

    looking forward to welcome the not-wife and you who will forever be nine years and 199 days younger than me. Cheers, my friend. And thank you.

    with four days delay raising my glass to drink a drop from Mount Athos Vineyard on your health. Thank you.

    here's to our next 56 years! :)

    thenk ye awfie muckle, dautie freen! And thanks to your odd little friends, too, for letting have you a glimpse through their spacetime-zippety-dippety-light-sight-machine, and thus enabling you to give a tiny foretaste of this lovely little party we are going to have in but a couple of moons.
    No doubt Hans for the time being will be looking forward to - once you will have jumped out of the torte - see a typical Scottish belly dance; while the Crow will exercise how to carry Susan to Seanhenge, Knatolee will teach her bees to teach(ing*) her hens how to cross the Atlantic with Gordon and Knatolee on their backs; D.E. will doubtless chip in some extraordinary sounds/thoughts, and Stan until 2066 will try to find an effective method to teach Sean the quillets of the English language.
    Well, and Bertus will take the chance of making one of his superb collages.
    Phew!!! If you knew how much I do admire your eloquence, Don QuiScottie.

    what a lovely surprise! Thank you so very much for your good wishes, my dear Mother of Orchids :)
    May we see you putting on your blogging hat before that glorious party in 2066, of which Andrew has given us a foretaste?

    ha ha ha!!! What a wonderful wish! Thank you.
    Of course, I'll do my very best to convince the jealous spouse to throw the colt away and join the party ... :)
    If successful/convincing, I might even become 116 ... :)

    thank you very much! Yeah, it's a fine aim, the more when thinking of you and the old scientist joining the party.

    Caro Lady Limoncello,
    grazie. And thinking of Rosa and you preparing some of those maaany most delicious Sicilian and Albanian recipes I hardly can wait for October 2066. Perhaps we should organise such a party some moons earlier? :)

    Thank you! That's why it's such easy for me to remember Ozlem's birthday - 13 - 10 :)

    thank you very much.