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Oh yeah. Had a birthday.
Sep. 18th, 2006 12:08 pmLast year, when I turned 45, we threw a party for me. It was vinyl-record themed, and my brother even got me a couple (which, of course, I haven't been able to play yet, not possessing a functioning phonograph; this is on my long list of things to do, as I eventually want to rip all of my vinyl to MP3 or better).
Forty-five is some kind of milestone. Not only are singles and guns named after it, it serves as a half-way point between milestones "40" and "50".
So what is "46"? Two times twenty-three? Big deal.
Birthdays are arbitrary in the first place; after the initial one, your development is actually moment-by-moment, and the fact that the earth is in the same relative position around the sun as the day you were born is largely irrelevant. I don't feel as if I've attained any particular ratchet-level of achievement. (Oddly, I did last year.)
Still, my girls (who performed a "Happy Birthday" song-and-dance routine for me yesterday morning, for which I hope I was sufficiently grateful) were somewhat gobsmacked that I wasn't doing anything in particular. We didn't go out, we didn't have a party, we didn't even have a cake. My utterly wonderful wife made us sourdough waffles and bacon for breakfast, and that made me very happy. But there was no explicit acknowledgement of suddenly being 46.
Is this a bad sign? Am I being insufficiently extroverted by not celebrating myself?
Forty-five is some kind of milestone. Not only are singles and guns named after it, it serves as a half-way point between milestones "40" and "50".
So what is "46"? Two times twenty-three? Big deal.
Birthdays are arbitrary in the first place; after the initial one, your development is actually moment-by-moment, and the fact that the earth is in the same relative position around the sun as the day you were born is largely irrelevant. I don't feel as if I've attained any particular ratchet-level of achievement. (Oddly, I did last year.)
Still, my girls (who performed a "Happy Birthday" song-and-dance routine for me yesterday morning, for which I hope I was sufficiently grateful) were somewhat gobsmacked that I wasn't doing anything in particular. We didn't go out, we didn't have a party, we didn't even have a cake. My utterly wonderful wife made us sourdough waffles and bacon for breakfast, and that made me very happy. But there was no explicit acknowledgement of suddenly being 46.
Is this a bad sign? Am I being insufficiently extroverted by not celebrating myself?
