Happy Birthday, Barry Manilow! You turned 67 today, but you haven’t changed a bit — you’re still that guy we can’t smile without, the one who came and gave without taking, the one who wrote the songs (except for “I Write the Songs”), and the only person we’d want to spend a weekend with, both in New England and at the Copacabana. Thank you for everything. Ordinarily we’d spend a little time roasting you in tribute, but it seems you’ve already rick-rolled yourself (video evidence after the jump), so… sing on, friend. Many happy returns!