What is is about all these birthdays, one after another. Are they "winter babies", the product of cold nights after watching Johnny Carson?

There's been a general run on birthday cakes lately; it is our Henry P's (lower right) birthday today and his gigantic ice cream cake arrived late this afternoon. There are not many dedicated souls like Henry, who devotes most all his time to Aids charities. He's always been part of The Palace family, even though he doesn't work here any longer; but once a member, always one and the party will start at 7PM.

Tomorrow's is Ditmar's birthday party and there's another Saturday; I swear: If heterosexuals don't stop formicating in winter and simply just go to San Juan or something, I'll have to take the summer off.

(And I kept a big secret: I had a real, formal, "date" with Leopoldo last night who--since his car is being fixed--pedaled his Schwinn from Miami and over the Venetian Causeway for it. It was sublime. Tomorrow he will be presented at Court during the birthday celebration. Everyone who has met him so far has gushed and offered wonderful compliments; and for good reason.)