Every year (since 1973) for my birthday we have a pig-picking–a whole barbecued pig. The past several years we’ve been borrowing a gas cooker from a neighbor instead of doing it with wood or wood and charcoal; this isn’t as traditional, but I don’t have a splitting headache the next day either. I won’t claim to like getting older; but I will say that the friends I’ve made over the years are the best part of my very good life.
I’m cutting up the pig with the help of two guests (there were about a hundred people this year).
One of the presents my friends gave me. This is the August, 1930, issue (whole number eight) of Astounding, the issue I needed to complete my set of the magazine.