Happy Birthday, Jesse and Jesse
Jesse Jackson is one of the few famous people who shares my birthday*. I also happen to have met him, and mentioned our shared birthday to him, which prompted him to kiss me on the cheek. Actually, I suspect he kisses a lot of the ladies on the cheek. He's that kind of guy. Dapper, debonair, smooth, very tall...just a little too much of all of that. Happy Birthday to you, Jesse, I believe you are 62 today.
I went to high school with Jesse M. He was a year older than me, and hailed from Kentucky. He had a dreamy accent, was thin and willowy and wry, made plaid shirts and jeans look romantic, and had a poetic talent which he kept mostly hidden. His father was a moderately well-known novelist. He was friendly with me, and I was of course madly in love with him, and followed him around like a lost kitten, watching in agony as he embarked on a series of relationships with other girls. Every year on our birthday we would give each other a carton of Camel Lights. Isn't that romantic? Happy Birthday to you, too, Jesse M. And thanks for letting me follow you around like that.