Celebrating Birthdays

TODAY IS MY BIRTDAY, and I'm excited about it, as I was trained, lured into being from an early age. My parents treated my birthday from an early age like a national holiday, at least in terms of presents given and joyfully received, and, well, old dogs, new tricks, no go. I was in essence, brainwashed and lured into regarding my own virthday as an occasion suitable for excessive celebration. They piled the beautifully brightly wrapped presents onto the kitchen table, and I thought maybe they should have erected a Christmas tree (birthday tree?...HEY!) I recall one year in particular, I think it was my eleventh birthday, but it not, it was close, when Iwalked nextdoorto my neighbor's house, and,with my arms loaded with the weight of too many material objects, bats, ball gloves, ball caps ( I was still a Cardinal fan in those days, but a "closet" Yankee fan.) The neighbor mother answered patronizengly, laconically, I beamed broadly, and said something childish like "loog what I got for my birthday!" She smiled slightly, and pretended to care, poorly. I took her lack of interest for toned down interest. Over the years Idon't rmember ever having a bad birthday, and this one is off to a glorious beginning and only promises to get better. I reckon the real reason for my lifelong birthday success is that I have always made damned sure that they turned out that way, that I made them this way. On the first day of April at the senior center the director and staff gave a birthday party for everone having a birthday during April. Its a great monthly senior center activity.I proud and thrilled to stand up in front the other ancient ones. These words appeared on this "Paper" early on teh mmorning of my birthdy, amid my joy, and boy howdy how rapidly it will go and is going by. I must make every second count. The best celebration of my birthday is on Facebook, so how in hell can I join the veritable legion of Facebook users who claim that they hate Facebook, only use it rarely, only when they have to, blah blah, because its so lewd, immoral, or wtf ever. Hell, I like Faceboo, and aint ashamed to admit it. I have no snobbish condescending need to convince everyone that I truly hae Facebook and consider it beneath me, whhile spending twenty hours a day on it. I have no idea whether, wenn I show up for ten oc'lock gospel singing, anybody there will mention my birthday. I hope somebody does; I doubt anyone will. But, not to worry. As you have by now no doubt apprehended, I can and do make damned sure my birthday isn't ignored. Other people, Americans, might tend to ignore or downplay their own birthdays, and acknowledge and celebrate other people's, but not me, oh no, hell no. Dennis Rodman used to party for a week. He had a "birthday week". I can relate, but find it more special still to use only this one day, watch it pass and dwindle, and reflect on the nature of the universe. Man, does it ever come and go in a hurry. And, truth be told, it has always seemed, been that way, even back in the day when I was terribly young and the rivier of time flowed sluggishly, like molasses. Even then it seemed too fast. Today'll shoot by like a rocket, despite my best intentions to slow it down, which, they say, can be done, through perception. Like Dr. Faustus whined when his deal with the deal was coming due, "Oh horses of time, run slowly, slowly...". I'll be fine, it'll be great, and already is. Thanks, everyone. Maybe my misanthropy is misplaced. Maybe, insane. Hell, maybe folks aint so bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, there is hope for the world. Goethe, who was no gullible pollyanna optiimist, said: "Noble be man, compassionate, and good," Isn't it perfectly normal and understandable to make a big deal out of one's birthday, much bigger than out of other's? Happy Birthday to me!