He died for what he believed in. So should they.

Years ago, I asked friends and family, loved ones, to not buy me gifts or give me money on my birthday, Christmas, or Valentines Day, etc., but to instead donate that money. Dad has been donating money to the Children's Cancer Association in my name for years, and friends donate money to the ASPCA.

Every 6 months I receive "thank you for your continued donation" notes from these organizations, and on that day, for the moment, life has a little meaning.

I don't really celebrate these dates including my birthday. January 7. I might have some grand idea that seemed fantastic after a bottle of red vine, but I view my birthday much like I view Christmas, Valentines Day, or any day the calendar says, "Buy a new mattress because it's Labor Day!" it's all circumspect.

However,

I happily buy gifts for my friends and family, and ever since my friend broke his foot, it somehow translated into me buying him sushi twice a week. I don't understand it either since I wasn't the one who broke his foot, but, fuck it, whatever. Give it some time, I'm sure something down the road will be my fault.

January 7, 2015, however,

Something truly horrific happened.

12 people were murdered in Paris, 11 wounded, in a movement to silence free speech, silence the press, and silence satirical comedy.

I just can't wrap my head around it.

Jon Stewart, made the movie Rosewater, about Iranian-Canadian journalist, Maziar Bahari, accused of being a spy, and imprisoned in Iran for appearing on The Daily Show, with Jon Stewart.

Unbelievable.

I'm a new junkie. I read some 5 newspapers every morning, and when I have absolutely nothing else to do I watch CNN news. On this particular birthday morning I turned on CNN...

Charlie Hebdo, was murdered with colleague, associates, security and police... over cartoons.

Cartoons.

Christ.

Back when David Geffen opened his contemporary art at MOCA, one of the pieces on display was a statue of the Virgin Mary, with a sewage pipe running through her stomach.

It was pretty rough.

And while I disapprove if such "art" as being a waste of talent, I poke fun of Catholics/Christians, on this blog regularly.

I've never poked fun at Muslims. Honestly, I don't know how. Lucky me.

But I DO know how touchy and sensitive people can be!!

My joking around about not being able to cook, or boil water, or recognizing a pot from a frying pan, has pissed off complete strangers to the point they make rude comments about it on their public forum.

So,

Before Sous chefs gather in Los Angeles, with torches at my doorstep, know that these are jokes for my friends, stemming from my time in culinary school, which I dropped out of...

(Dude, I honestly don't know how that kitchen blaze got started.)

January 7, 2015, is the one birthday that has significance for me.

I will never forget this birthday... ever.