And Many More...

Birthdays.  We don't pick 'em.  But suddenly, HALLO WORLD! Here I am!   Poor world.  Probably didn't have much choice about our appearance on its various stages either.

As kiddies we can't wait to have a birthday celebrated.  At the very senior end, we also have much to be thankful for when we hit the octo's and nono's;  maybe even before.  Thank goodness we have our eyesight/hearing/teeth/hips/kneecaps etc etc.  And anywhere in between very young and very old, we celebrate the last of of the single digits, the first of the double digits, the last of pre-teens, the onset of teenage.  Then it's the big deals of coming of age, so you can drink, drive, have sex (which came before you can drink or drive, go figure...).  The girls can plump for Sweet Sixteen, acne and braces notwithstanding.  18 has become a milestone too, when your mates can say "Oy it's all legal now mate!"  You can vote a government out of office.  And finally, FINALLY - you're twenny-one. No longer minor, but a major annoyance, if you so choose.  

But from there on out, it gets slightly more painful with the remarkable stakes in the mud.  30.  Uh oh.  You've lost your twennies.  Suddenly, what was considered silliness but still funny, is no longer funny when you're in your 30's.  Then the Big Four-Oh.  I've known most grown men to have cried on that day.  One friend had arranged for her husband a surprise luxury dinner and stay at a 5 star country establishment, chauffeured limousine and all that.  The 40 year old virgin to his fourth decade life experience awoke from his unbeauteous sleep and bawled, inconsolable at his demise.  The wife had to cancel the entire shebang.  Another guy turned over in his bed on his 40th and said to the wife,"I've called my accountant and attorney.  To sort out my affairs."  Bucket-list mentality kicks in, pun pun.

When you hit your 50th it's like a big surprise.  Oh my.  I actually made the Half Century?  Like you intend to live to the full century.  So you party on dude, with marquees erected for a big 50th bash, and you go on funny events, like balloon rides, and, God help you - bungee jumps.  If you're a guy you blame mid-life crisis and go buy yourself a sports car, a yacht, or ogle women in their 20's.  Just reading the menu, not ordering, is all.  But you get all nervvy and body conscious - suck in your belly all the time so you cannot breathe; and borrow the wife's eyebrow tweezers to remove every grey that pops up overnight on your balding crown.

The sixth decade rolls round before you are ready for retirement.  The Big R word.  Wassat?  What do you mean Senior Citizen sonny Jim?  I may be too old for ecstasy, but I'm certainly too young for lawn bowls!! You half resent your Freedom Pass, even though you'd been banging on for years at the government for over charging Transport for London fares.

When you get to the major leagues, you say things like "Oh 70 is the new 40."  "You're only as old as you are young in your heart..."  Blah-dee-blah.  You know at night exactly which joints ache, and that your dentures sit in a water glass by your bedside and go "At-cha-cha!!" at you, to taunt you.

But the real point of birthdays, and celebrating them, is the people who care enough about you, at no matter what age, who want to fuss over you, bake you a cakey, and celebrate your whatevah.  Your young parents who cannot believe how adorable you were at Age One, and threw you a party with other babies who drooled all over your first ever cake, pooped their nappies just like you, and ate the wrapping paper that bore your first ever gifts.   The same parents who laughed and cried secretly at your wonder and joy, when you understood birthdays:  the surprise ones when everyone jumped out from behind furniture;  the themed parties when dad looked ridiculous in a pirate's outfit and embarrassed you as his every sentence began with "ARRRRRR!!"; Mom adapting her first date dress for your 1960's Sweet Sixteen.  Your mates, all spiffy in their dinner jackets when you turned 21, and your first kiss looking coyly on as your huffed and puffed over your cake, looking hotter than your many candles!

And at every age for the techno-not-so-challenged, all your FB friends who Write Posts, or PM to send you greetings for your special day - they are special folks.

It may have been a crap day in reality.  You could be jobless, feeling pointless, and acting restless.  But for many moments on the day you suddenly arrived kicking and screaming into the world, there could be a sweetness that gets you right there.

Thank you all for marking the moment and my little day.