The happy birthday blues
My birthday is quickly approaching. They seem to come faster each year, like the centripetal force of a penny swirling around a proverbial drain (if you’ve ever dropped a penny into the cone-shaped tub at the newly renamed Kamin Science Center, you know what I’m talking about).
I am older and wiser. Who am I kidding? I am older. The only time I’m called wise, it’s usually followed by “-nheimer.”
There are 12 candles in a standard packet of birthday candles. I have to do algebra to figure out how many boxes I need to buy to put on my cake. It’s so many candles, it’s going to set off the fire alarm.
A birthday, like New Year’s Eve, is a great time to reflect on the past, look to the future, and, just like New Year’s Eve, get a little drunk.
This year, my birthday is on a Saturday, Oct. 11. My cousin, Jayna, is getting married that day, which means there will be cake and an open bar. I may preorder that Uber now.
Every year on my birthday, I like to take stock of my life. I will take inventory of what is working and what is not.
In my life, I’ve been broken, sliced open, and stitched back together, but everything is in working order, mostly. I have a couple of add-ons, two stents, four porcelain caps on my teeth, and two rerouted veins.
I have all my fingers and toes, though one toenail is not right. A few months ago, I dropped a large, red can of Contadina San Marzano whole peeled tomatoes on my foot, and it hasn’t returned to normal. The nail is rippled like a chip in a big bag of Lay’s Wavy potato chips, and Funyun-colored.
Some people age like fine wine, improving with age. I am aging like gin in a martini, bruised, shaken, and stirred.
I am trying to improve myself, but there is still a lot of work to be done.
I meditate, and as I meditate, I find moments of peaceful joy, but I also swear like a sailor on shore leave in rush-hour traffic. God help the fool who tries to merge in front of me when it’s NOT HIS TURN!
P.S. It’s every other car. It’s not my fault you have to be home for “Jeopardy.” I’ll take “People Who Annoy the Heck Out of Me” for 500, Ken.
But I digress, like I do. I am working on myself. For instance, I am trying to eat more healthily, but there are Klondikes in my freezer. I know, they didn’t just appear there magically. Barbara Eden isn’t living in a bottle on my credenza.
I exercise, but I still get sucked into the sofa like I’m sitting on an asteroid on the rim of a black hole. Yes, I spend too much time on my asteroid.
Sometimes, I win. Sometimes, I lose. I’m just glad to be in the game. Here’s to another round.