Today is – and it is not – my birthday.
It is, because I’ll be posting this in the morning, and it is not because I’m writing it the night before.
I've pretty much ignored birthdays for the past several years, but somehow this one seems important. I’m not sure why, maybe because it is birthday number 72.
72 seems like it should be a milepost year. After all, it is divisible by a lot of other milepost years like 2, 4, 6, 8 ,9, 12, 18, 24 and 36. Each of those years typically produce achievements and/or changes in a person’s life, so it seems logical to expect this year to be the same. I don’t know what changes or accomplishments I might expect, or even what I might want to happen, but I do think that somehow something will.
71, the number I’m leaving, is a Prime number, but the last year has been pretty ordinary – not a bad year, but nothing to write home about.
72 must be special – As I write this, my birthday is still a day away, and I’ve already received birthday wishes from several Facebook friends, a slightly off-color card from my daughter , and another, more traditional, card from the company that handles our investments. I’ve received email greetings from the Boyd Gaming Casinos, and one from IRV2 , one of the RV forum websites I follow. I even got one from Dr. Reddy, the guy who does my colonoscopies.
Speaking of whether or not it is my birthday – my mother, an otherwise extremely intelligent woman , almost never got my birthday right. If asked, she was more likely than not to say that I was born on the 8th.
When I complained, she explained that her due date was the 8th of August, and she showed up at Houston’s St. Joseph’s Infirmary on the 8th, ready and willing, with every intention of giving birth. It wasn’t her fault that I didn’t join the party until the wee hours of the following morning.
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