A-Man = OLD Man!

And the Los Chicos birthday season officially ends with the 40th birthday of the A-Man himself, Aaron.

Sadly, Aaron wasn't able to make it to the Vegas birthday celebration, and stayed home in Seattle, instead, to celebrate the milestone with his bride, Jeni. Forty years old. Man. I can remember when Aaron and I first met, through our friend K.C., when he came to town from San Diego to visit. Who could have known, then, that we'd become the best of friends for the next couple of decades, that we'd end up roommates for years in two different cities, and that I'd be best man in his wedding? Audrey Hepburn was right - time IS funny stuff.

Holy crap, did I just quote Audrey Hepburn? Forget I just did that. Prank caller! Prank caller!

A San Diego native, Aaron graduated from SDSU (somehow. I think for several semesters he didn't even buy books, but used that money for beer instead, as the story goes) in the early '90s and made his way to New York city to try out the Big Apple. Fate stuck him in Sacramento after that, where he soon ended up moving in with me, Rich and Tim (and soon after, A.T.), and became one of the infamous Los Chicos Blancos at La Casa. After the other guys all broke the man code and got themselves married off, he and I became roomies and carried on the single dude tradition, eventually picking up and moving down to San Diego where we spend about seven years rarely cleaning, smoking too many cigars, and watching countless NBA games in our little La Mesa apartment. It wasn't until the long arm of love finally reached out through that dad-blasted interweb that he finally gave up his keys to mantown and fell for his eventual bride-to-be, Jeni, and moved to Seattle. I was tempted to sing Gloria Gayner's "I Will Survive" at their wedding, but spared everyone the ordeal, realizing doing so would be even gayer than an Audrey Hepburn quote.

Aaron's a man who enjoys life in all its fullness, from Basketball to beer to stogies to sour kraut (don't ask) to 80s jams and Sandler movies. And he's the kind of friend that everyone should have, someone who's been with me through it all for all these years. His laugh can shake furniture, his people skills have made him lifelong friends whereever he's traveled, and he's one of the best people you'll ever have the pleasure to know. After twenty years of this, it's great to know, without a doubt, that we'll still be hanging out for our 50th and 60th birthdays, still debating the best episodes of Firefly and griping about the Kings/Lakers game seven heartbreak. Some people come in and out of your life. Some are destined to always be there. I've been blessed to have many such friends in my years, and am proud to count Aaron as one of them.

So raise a crappy MGD with me, if you will, and join me in a birthday toast to the Storckman. A very happy fortieth you, my man, from all of us who call you our boy. The best of everything is what we wish you, and know you're already way ahead of the game in getting it.

(Please note: no bell peppers were harmed in the making of this blog entry)