Don't Get Me Anything For My Birthday (Really, Though, Do)
You think birthdays are simple: This is the day that the doctor smacked you on the ass so you could take that first big breath and scream in utter horror at what you'd gotten yourself into.
I turned 32 just minutes more than 24 hours ago.
My father called me to tell me "Happy Birthday," and he just happened to be passing through the town where I was born, which is about 3 hours away from where I live and my children first got smacked on the ass.
He couldn't believe that 32 years ago I had come into the world.
Sounds simple.
But it's not.
It's like a parade that goes by. It's there for that moment and everyone's looking. But if you stay after the floats have been shoved back into whatever storage pod they were shoved into last year, you're just looking at a street. At something that no longer exists.
This is your birthday. You were born on this day, and the clock has been ticking ever since. You've got to capture it somehow. Slow it down. Trap the firefly in a bottle because you don't want the yellow flash to fade.
Because at the end of the day -- and it's over -- you're no longer straddling the line between 31 and 32. You are 32 until the next desperate day when you will be 33. And you'll do it all over again.
That's what happens when you see time linearly. Something about a November birthday and the creeping withdrawal that comes with this time of year seems to give birth to that linear perspective.
It's a real smack on the ass.
12 comments:
happy birthday you old fart.
hehehehe...32...a real creaking gate.
welcome to the club 'old' boy.
many happy retuens of the day.
Happy Birthday!!!!!
Looks like you were having fun with your boys enjoy your day.
That's why I make a point to make the day before my birthday a happy one. To celebrate the ending of howmany years I'v e been around.
Happy Birthday, and a warning, they just keep comming faster and faster.
If you do find a way to bottle one, patten it, you will be rich.
maybe marijuana could slow the day down? or at least make it seem that way
I shall toast a whisky to you mate - 32 is nay too old - you'd be a sturdy defensive midfielder in the prime of his career if you were playing footie in the uk.
that's how I judge age - look at sports folk.
how's ricky doing by the way?
Happy day!
Thirty-two. Two kids. Career. Loyal blog followers. Hey, you're ahead of the curve.
Time is linear only in this reality. I picked up an Albert Einstein action figure today, thinking my nephew would get a kick out of it. I think you may need one, for, you know, whenever you need a smack on the ass about the relativity of time.
dan, just remember: you turned 32 first!
mainiax, thanks. having those boys makes the birthdays bearable.
krista, that sounds like a better idea than what i do, which is just dread the next day. good for you.
john, how about them gamecocks?!
simon, i'll have to tell you about how my birthday weekend went extremely ... slow. and i appreciate the sports reference. think of one for me when i'm 42, ok?
screetus, you give me a reason to think that turning older isn't so bad, and might even make me cooler.
kz, you're right. i need einstein. expand the mind beyond point a to point b. that's an issue i have. need to get over it.
thanks everybody for wishing me a happy birthday. i haven't been keeping up with this thing like i should. i still read and all. i just don't have a whole lot to say at the moment.
peace, bitches!
p.s. i went with the word verification only because i haven't been able to check my site enough to bitch slap the spammers soon enough. sorry.
e+
screetus- age is all in the mind.
i reckon my mental age is about 19.
I can think of worse things than a smack on the ass. Okay- kidding.
I just marked my last birthday in my 20s. I am 29 now. The teens can't believe I am so old. Sheesh. The worst part to me is that as I get older, time actually speeds up. Like I am hitting turbo to get to the grand finale.
Happy B-Day, Eric! I think every year time flies a little faster, but it seems like you're enjoying the time, which is what counts.
Glad the 'Cocks could give you a special gift. Let's hope they bring you another one this weekend followed by a gift for my b-day in early January ;) .
By the way, send that USC/UF pic to me. I was watching 290 middle school kids throw rubber chickens into trashbaskets while the 'Cocks were beating UF for the first time since 1939. I guess that's the price you pay to do the Lord's work...
Peace,
Chris
Oh, yeah... and
Happy (belated) Birthday!
amber - once you hit 30 this weird chilled out thing hits you completely.
i think you finally lose any desire to hang onto your youth. at least in terms of trying to keep up with certain things.
we're still allowed to have fun though.
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