If sources are not mistaken, Sunday August 22nd, 2010, must be Ray's 90th birthday.

Somebody correct me if I err.

Otherwise, have a great birthday, Ray! We are so glad you made it to 90 and may there be more quality years to come.

Our gourmet chef could whip up the proper theme cake. Just for grins, what would that be?
Maybe a map of Ray's Imgagi-Nation (as Forry Ackerman would have said)?
Cheers,
Gloria McMillan

Whoops. Typo: I meant IMAGI-Nation!

NINETY TODAY and still spinning at 1,070 mph. What a feat!

Congratulations Mr Bradbury!

~ love tink

Happy Birthday indeed. Thanks for every word.

To the Catcher of Metaphors that fly on Wings of Tomorrow and play Songs of Yesterday--

Presently, Happy Birthday! And to you and yours continued Health and Joy!

-Robert

Happy Birthday Mr. Bradbury from russian fans.

Happy B-day Ray! May Mr Electrico's cry of "Live Forever!" echo in you for many years to come.

Mog the Dog here.

Happy birthday to my favorite author on my favorite day of the year!

And happy birthday to my favorite human companion! Her daughter gave her the book The Backyard Homestead, which includes a section on making dandelion wine, and her mother, an accomplished artist, gave her a detailed drawing of butterflies, inspired by the butterfly theme in A Sound of Thunder.

Thank you for touching the life of my favorite human companion so profoundly through your Ray Bradbury magic.

I will always remember you.

I will always remember you.

MTD

Dear Ray Bradbury!

I be Happy congratulate to You with 90-th years of life in your fantasy and dreams! It's excellently to write that You wrote

I wish to You sprightly health, sunny days and fortunate Autumn!
I wish to You a little present writen by my frends and me.
This is 'Martian Summer' song and Martian panoram.
You can to see & listen it on tne next location:

http://itshell.com/martiansummer.html

We love You and Your works. Be Happy, please.
Nikolay Sidorov, Korolev, Russia, 22 august 2010

The Russians have really turned out on here today - wonderful!

To the Thing that Goes by Night; the Beast that Lazes Sun:

It started in a school library in 1969. R Is for Rocket, the book was called, and the bug that bit that day caused a raging, incurable fever that has diminished not one whit. There is a cabinet in my house where, if you press your ear to the keyhole, you will hear the whimper of that little girl who missed the Venutian summer. Or the nervous click of Lavinia Nebbs's heels as she approaches her front door, having put the ravine behind her ... or the sound of boys, yelling and racing across summer lawns. Or the chime of the courthouse clock, or the rumble of rockets igniting. Or Ahab's lunatic rambles.

But don't open that door. Amid the books - some shiny and new, some old and a bit musty (but all by the same author) - there is a jar with something strange and vaguely unsettling in it. I don't trust that jar, even today. Sometimes, when I open that cabinet, I pluck a book out as quickly as I can, trying to ignore the baleful stare of that thing in the jar, and I take the book out into a well lit room, there to be read and loved once again.

Break out the Dandelion Wine. And a toast to the next 90, and the 90 after that, and so on forever. I'm coming with you.

And thanks again, for the ride.

Happy birthday from your fans who number as many and glow as brightly as the stars.

90 years young and only a short time to forever. Thanks for all the tears and fears and joy. From the pulps to the literary shelf with all the other greats. May The First Martian have the happiest of birthdays.

For once, I was able to hand-deliver a birthday card to Ray this year. In case you haven't seen it on my blog, here's the card I made:

Birthday card for ray

(Design elements: Beast from 20,000 Fathoms sculpture by Ray Harryhausen, as photographed in a London exhibition by Brian Sibley; text from "The Fog Horn"; photo of Ray, er, found on the web; 'happy biRthdAY' caption inspired by the Wm Morrow styling of Bradbury's name.)

Phil, your card's image is the stuff 12 year old boys' nightmares are made of.

(I read "The Foghorn" aloud to my students because of the poetic suspense and fear it evokes. Your bd card has captured the essence. Any calls from Hallmark yet!?)