Happy Birthday To Me
Friday, June 19th, 2009
Yeah, yeah, yeah, so it’s my birthday… I’m going to try to put this all in perspective. Flying again, on my way to LA, at 38,000 feet, trying to get up above it all. Each year I say, “This is the last I want to celebrate” – meaning not that I want out, just that it’s getting weirder each passing year. I mean why should I get presents? It’s my mom that should have been getting the presents. Besides they don’t come with the frequency that they used to.
My tastes and wants or needs are now far too expensive for other people to fulfill and the rest I already have. Well, at least I should be grateful for that.
Do I sound like a curmudgeon? Probably. Perhaps I should try to get to the real meaning of this celebration of life.
What is a birthday? We really only have one birth day – the day we are born. And even that is questionable. All the rest are just celebrations of that first day – a day that none of us remember. Odd. Strange ritual. Great for kids, but perhaps wasted on adults.
