My great friend Frank Buxton was given a surprise birthday party last night…and I'll bet it was a surprise since his birthday is in February. But he turned 85 at the last one and I don't know why they decided to do this in July. I only wish I'd been able to fly up to Seattle for it and yell "Surprise" along with the rest of his pals. Were it not for a healing knee and the need to finish work before Comic-Con, I might have done so.
Our mutual friend Frank Ferrante did, though. The photo isn't altogether clear so let me explain: They wheeled out a big prop cake and instead of a girl popping out, out came Ferrante dressed as Groucho Marx! Wish I could have been there just for that moment. The honoree sure looks like he was delighted.
I told you all about Buxton in this post. He's an amazingly talented and dear man. I have been fortunate to become friends with a number of people whose work I admired when I was a lad. Buxton is one of them.
Sorry I couldn't get away to be there, Frank, but I'll try to be present when you turn 90 and/or maybe 95. Given what great shape you're in, I figure three-digit ages are certain too, just as long as you don't take up something foolish like bunjee-jumping or working on sitcoms again.