Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday, dear AL, Happy birthday to me!
In case I didn’t mention it, it’s my birthday! The AL turned 4. Actually, the AL turned 4 three days ago, but the party is tonight, so I’m celebrating now.
And what a party it promises to be. Chip and I and all the merry LJ gang plan to dance the night away in the rotating ballroom on the top floor of the Library Journal building. I love big band music. Harry James, here I come! Drinking champagne, whirling around the dance floor, taking quick breaks to catch my breath while gazing out on the bright city lights. Everyone’s invited!
And my dance card promises to be full. Though escorted by my companion, I’ve promised Chip many dances. I warned him that the more I dance, the more he’ll have to massage my little feet at work, but he’s such a devoted factotum and majordomo he just doesn’t care. He’s like Jeeves, except blond and buff, and maybe not as smart. Brains aren’t everything, though. Just ask my critics.
Also, what a long, strange trip it’s been. The AL’s gone from total obscurity to cult favorite to pariah to bigger cult favorite to even bigger pariah to whatever she is now. Maybe I’m an institution now. I’m so in love with myself, it’s almost insufferable, isn’t it?
But what about the future? Ahh, the future. Who knows. For now, I plan, as we said in the seventies, to keep on keeping on. Or was that the eighties? I can’t remember. Too many martinis. You know what they say about the seventies and eighties. If you remember them, you weren’t there. Carter just thought he killed the three martini lunch. He hadn’t met the Annoyed Librarian.
So here’s to another year of the AL. Thanks for you all!