This is Birthday Week at COC
This is turning into a heavy week here at COC and it is all because of birthdays. For some unknown reason both Justin and I have birthdays in the same week. Well I suppose that the reason is known but the synchronicity is a mystery. Who knew we were working with such a handicap. Try to imaging two Virgo’s working together and you will get the picture. Even though there is a small difference in our ages, we both have our cantankerous spirits to support the effort. Justin admits to being a mere babe at 36 while I am a bit older. I’ll just let the readers guess at my age. I will even give you a clue. I am not a boomer.
To party hearty – or not?
My birthday was Monday and it is all over now. No party. No cake. No presents. I did get two cards, one from my insurance agent and the other from my wife’ s broker. I think that tells everything you need to know about me. Justin celebrates his on Friday and I am sure that it will be party central at his house so I am not expecting much out of him here at COC until next week. He does love attention, however, so be sure to drop by his home base, ring his kettle bell, leave a comment and wish him well. At 36, he probably hasn’t yet realized that each year past 21 represents a decline in something although it is hard to notice what those somethings are until 40 or so – at least that’s they way I remember it. Besides thinking about your decline never makes you feel better.
Birthdays are for kids.
Each one is a happy event because it marks a progression toward the ideal of adulthood and control of your life. At least that is the fantasy that kids have about being a grown-up. Let them live in their fantasy world. The truth will hit them soon enough. A birthday is a day of recognition with a present or two and some very unhealthy food. No matter because youngsters can eat anything without worrying about health. All in all birthdays are pleasant events for kids.
But not for adults
After you reach drinking age, there is nothing much good to say about birthdays. Being one year older doesn’t help you one little bit. By the time you get to be my age, the last thing you want is another birthday. (Well let me qualify that a bit – continuing to live through another year is always good but recognizing that year is not.) I’m happy enough to be alive and kicking but there is no reason for anyone to know that that I’m even older than I was last year.
That’s my take on birthdays.
Don’t give me a party. Don’t buy me a present. Don’t rub it in that I have survived another year and look pretty good for my age. If you feel the compulsion to celebrate somebody’s birthday, focus on baby faced Justin. He is young enough to still be in denial about his imminent decline but with four kids, it won’t be long.