When I was a kid, April was my favorite month because that’s when I had my birthday. Then for a few years, when birthdays started meaning a little less, I didn’t much care for April any more. But after Eric was born, 31 years ago this week, I started liking April again. Today Mom and Eric and I were at John and Suzanne’s house to celebrate Eric’s birthday, and to enjoy each other’s company. Because that’s what families do, right?

No, I understand, not all families work that way, but we have a pretty good thing going here. We “get” each other and have so much history together (31 years for Eric, even longer for the rest of us) that it’s a real pleasure to hang out. And real pleasure isn’t all that easy to come by all the time, as you probably know.

My favorite part of these family get-togethers has always been sitting around the table after dinner, talking. I have a hard time spending five minutes with people I’m not comfortable around, but I could sit for hours with family, even if there’s nothing much to say. For us, we don’t all see each other as often as we used to, so there was plenty to catch up on. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed it. (Although I think I just did.)

And last night, Mom and I rode the bus a few miles south, to the Marin Civic Center, for a concert by the singer Michael Feinstein. (This was my birthday present from Mom, although it was an early one.) We both loved the show. I really appreciate how much he puts into each song, because they mean so much to him.

He sings old standards, and does music by songwriters both famous and forgotten. He almost always sings the verse, which is a real treat, and he almost always gives credit to the songwriter. His favorite (and his specialty) is Gershwin, and he really brings George and Ira’s songs to life. He sang accompanying himself on solo piano, which he plays with energy and skill, and also backed by a five-piece combo. It was a great time, and I don’t know anyone who didn’t walk out of the concert hall smiling (and humming).