What Were You Doing 10:53 p.m. Saturday?

I was asleep in front of the Carolina-Florida football game. One of those somebody shot me type moments that I did not plan for. I slept through an annual event that we had celebrated, prematurely, the previous two days. My birthday.

What number you ask? Well, as the aging process continues I noticed the really bad birthdays affect the first number, not the second. So this was not one of those really bad ones. The first number remains a 4. The second number flipped to an 8 at 10:53 p.m. Saturday night, while drool drained from the side of my mouth, in front of the Carolina game. I slept right through it.

Abigail, my youngest daughter, got me thinking about deeper things on Saturday. She asked my the moment of my birth vs. the day of my birth. She gave me back a year, all day long.

Krista (oldest daughter) and Owen (grandson) came over. We did a make your own party, for the Ipod generation. We designed our own pizzas, then designed our own sundaes, and then opened my stuff. Great Gamecock t-shirt, Grisham book (Innocent Man 2006), an assortment of hot teas and much more.

Celebrating your birthday is considered pagan by some. Ah, the joys of paganism. Hey, wait just a Psalm 90 minute here! So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom (12). A little, older, hopefully, a little wiser. More on defining moments, tomorrow.

World Headquarters moves to Florence, S.C. this week for the annual convention meeting of Southern Baptists. Meeting with some movement makers today on the way to Florence.

My football weekend was 50/50. The Saints laid and egg against the Rams. What a schizo year for all of college football and the Saints. When I pick the other team my winning percentage has dropped to 80% but I need to stay with success. So, I declare my allegiance to the Vanderbilt Commodores and the Houston Texans next weekend.