Birthday Boy, Matt, gets to eat his cake and have it too
My father is going to be 88 this coming May, and he told me awhile back that he never expected to make it past 80. He also can't believe that he has a 59-year-old son. That would be me. I also can't believe that I'm 59. My problem is that in my head, I'm still 25. Unfortunately, my body doesn't agree.
Yes, I like birthday cake. In fact, I like most any cake, cookie and I like donuts. I admit to having not much in the way of will power when it comes to sweet treats. I can just see Dr Robert looking at me over his glasses saying, "Matt, your sugar is too high." In fact, I'm seeing him this coming Tuesday for my quarterly blood sugar testing.
Yes, today is my birthday and my wife made a very birthday cake. My favourite cake is red velvet. She made a confetti party cake, with vanilla frosting. Of course I liked, it is cake isn't it?
At work today, just as the doors opened, the entire crew started to sing "Happy Birthday" to me. That has never happened before; it floored me. I really work with a good bunch of people.
My daughter, Michelle, who is away at school, called me on my home from work to wish me a happy birthday. We use Facebook Messenger video chat and, while I love to see her smiling face, the car is not the place to use it. I told her I'd call her back when we had cake, forgetting she wanted the call back when everyone sang Happy Birthday. Oops, I forgot.
I have 1183 Facebook friends and over 200 of them wrote on my timeline wishing me a happy birthday. I think 20% is good, though the day is not over. Some even did it twice! Then, of course, there are "real life" friends that I expected to write something, but didn't.
I mention twenty-five as being my favourite age. I was young, single and stupid. I lived alone, had a decent job, had many friends and went out a great deal. If there an age I could go back to, that would be it, twenty-five, as long as I could keep all the acquired knowledge so I wouldn't be stupid, again.
As I've gotten older, birthdays have become more of recognition than anything gifts and such. Yes, I like when family and friends acknowledge it and say something or send a message about it. It's nice to know they appreciate me and loved by so many people. I used to make a bigger deal of it when I was younger, but now it's just another day in the life.
I have next year to look forward to; the big 6-0. I often wonder where the time went. How did I go from a 25-year-old single guy to a guy of 59, with a house, family, cats, long time job and many of friends?
My answer is, just eat cake.
Matt Seinberg lives on Long Island, a few minutes east of New York City. He looks at everything around him and notices much. Somewhat less cynical than dyed in the wool New Yorkers, Seinberg believes those who don't see what he does like reading about what he sees and what it means to him. Seinberg columns revel in the silly little things of life and laughter as well as much well-directed anger at inept, foolish public officials. Mostly, Seinberg writes for those who laugh easily at their own foibles as well as those of others.
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