It's time for your spankings, Mr. Tophowitz!

Happy Birthday Chris/Crees/Topher/Tophy Tophowitz! We love you!

Shoni is the shortest one of all of us. Is she standing on a chair in this photo?

You're HOW old today? INCONCEIVABLE!

Proudly holding up the shirt my nephew J and I made for you!


Our first face-to-face introduction was at the party Donna threw for Vince's 50th birthday. I won't count the years on this public forum because I am a kind person and I love Vince (if you're reading this Vince, you're only as old as the body you feel! Wait...), but I'll just say that we go back a few! Shoni said, "This is my friend Chris, you know, 'Bowling Chris'!" My very first impression? That you had great hair. Serious!

We had a good 10 minutes of time all together until Jazzy sniffed out the new person in their loft, and it was not love at first sight for either of you. She barked and growled like you were a scary intruder. I still think it was because you had on camouflage pants and she couldn't see your legs. Hmm. Dogs. Well, she might not have liked you, but I did! You and your great hair and your invisible-to-dog-vision legs!

Not too long after that, I moved back to Chicago, but we see each other at least once a year. My visits to see you guys are always planned around bowling league night, and things never feel quite right until I hear Ben Sunshine yell "Juuuules!" across the lanes at Chelsea Piers; along with your *traditional greeting for me*; and then hearing you say "Welcome home!" or "Shmelcome Shmome!" depending how how many drinks we've had. I always know I'm right where I belong in that moment.


*Our traditional greeting*: A firm tug of the hair and a lick on the face; precisely in the way that I demanded from you once, and now the way in which I've become accustomed. Because I enjoy it so much, you have done this to me in crowded bars when we're with friends, on the sidewalk surrounded by strangers, and (most impressively) even if I have unfortunate blond orange highlights as proven by this photo from 2005. Sigh (to the sad highlights, not the greeting).

I wish I could be there tonight to pull your hair and spank you help you celebrate your birthday. Here is the list of activities I'd plan if we were in the same city: I would suggest starting at Egg Harbor in Chicago so you can have your favorite sandwich in the world: the Door County (or, Door COUNTRY as you call it) Melt. The very same sandwich that I text messaged you the ingredients in the hopes that it would help tame your craving.

Even though I sent you this tm from Chicago to NYC, this photo OF the tm was inexplicably taken when we were all together at Barrage during one of my visits.

I would not allow anyone to serve you hot beverages on your birthday or any other day of the year in the clear mugs that we have such disdain for.

When cropping this photo taken of us with my hot chocolate, I made sure to leave in your entire bicep. You're welcome.

After you work off the sandwich by doing 100 push ups, we'll go out to celebrate.

A legendary T-shirt, the ultimate in cleverness and irony. Clever because it's a reversible shirt with 'I Love My Girlfriend' on one side and 'I Hate My Girlfriend' on the other. Ironic because your ex-boyfriend bought it for you. Though, now that I really think about it, one of those phrases makes it NOT ironic at all. I'll let you decide which one.

On the way, we'll hopefully find as many revolving doors for you to go through as we can. Oh look, here's one now!

Chicago's revolving doors never had a bigger fan than you. You didn't know what the love affair was with this city and those doors (other than the fact that they're more fun than just walking directly into a building), and I remember seeing the proverbial light bulb above your head when I told you that they help keep the heat inside during the windy city winters (and of course the a/c inside during the humid summers). You're trying to look very jaded in this picture but right after I took it, you said, "I'm going around again!". So the rest of us did what any good friends would do by leaving you with your revolving door and headed further inside to the bar. Because we're not savages, we had a drink waiting for you when you were done with all that revolving.

We'll go see Avenue Q again, and I'll sit next to you because I'm the only one who loves it when you sing along happily to every song.

You really DO have great hair and I'm a little obsessed with it. I don't know why. Looking back on this post years from now, we'll all recognize this particular photo caption as my cry for help.

Then after that, it'll be time for your traditional show of flexibility. There are many other photos I have as proof of said flexibility. This is the only one that doesn't feature you in any number of positions illegal in at least 7 southern states.

You're wearing camo pants in this photo! Good thing Jazzy wasn't at this bar with us; she wouldn't have seen your legs that night, either. Interestingly we were at ViewBar, whose slogan is actually "See and Be Seen"; though the slogan should really be, "Our watermelon martinis will kick your ass so stop yourself after 2, otherwise you'll end up walking right into our bathroom door with nothing but your bloody face to stop you (*cough* Shoni *cough*)." Furthermore, whoever is holding up your leg has all those RAFFLE TICKETS in his hand, and this makes me laugh hysterically every time I see this picture because I remember exactly what the bar was raffling off that night (it wasn't YOU, I would never let that happen!), and this mystery leg-holding guy? He REALLY wanted it. In so many ways, apparently.

It goes without saying that after your show of bendy-ness, everyone will fight over who gets to spank you first. Why should your birthday be different from every other time people line up to give you spankings? Just another night in the life of Tophowitz (which has somehow become your fake last name, even though it's the evolution of your Topher to Tophy nicknames, and it makes you sound like a cop)!

This was that one night we played a little game (Not really a game, per say, but there is a point system. Anyone interested in joining should e-mail me for details. I could tell you more but you'd have to be initiated) called "grab-ass". Oh, that's pretty much every night. It was the same night Benny had that big red tongue issue. Wait, that's pretty much every night, too. OK, it was the same night Dr. Jason's ass resided in my hands. Wow, this is not helpful at all because I've just described all of our nights together.

For our 2 a.m. roof picnic, I think we should head to the pizza joint near Shoni's old apartment at the intersection of 29th Street & Ethan Hawke Avenue. I already know what you'll have: 3 slices, one calzone and NO, you don't want to just split one with either of us. Then afterwards maybe you'll feel a little too full and will wonder out loud, several times, why you didn't just split one calzone with us?!

Summer in the city. It's 2 a.m. and still a stifling 100 degrees. Regardless, this is your "stoked to eat pizza" face, otherwise known as "Pre-bloat" or "Before the good times ended".

Wait a minute, we forget about lunch!

"LUNCH". Best belt buckle in the universe, purchased right here in Chicago's Boystown.

We'll definitely have to get a hotel room. How about our usual haunt, the (no longer the same) House of Blues Hotel? Between Shoni & I, you always get a lifetime "pass" to our hotel room. We're no fools! You obsessively (adorably?) keep the place clean and you always answer the door for room service. Since you can't sit still for longer than 5 minutes, you often hit the floor to knock out yet another set of push ups or dance around the room whenever the mood strikes.

Giving the people living in the adjacent Marina Towers a little "Taste of Topher". I just made that saying up, but feel free to use it.

Are you trying to sleep?


C'mon really! You can't sleep yet! It's still your birthday!

Shoni & her monkey pants will keep you conscious!

Finally, in the super-day birthday I've planned for you in my mind, tomorrow we'll all end up on the beach in Puerto Rico sipping ice cold beer, looking forward to another year of big adventures together, numerous funny stories, many tugs of the hair and the required shmelcome shmomes. However, you'll still be the only one who looks THIS DAMN GOOD:

Yowza!

The best thing about you is that your insides match your outsides. You're truly beautiful through & through. Have an amazing birthday (or should I say, "Shamazing Shmirthday!"). Love you!