Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I am sixty years old today.
That's a concept that's hard to wrap my mind around. Age numbers have always seemed hard to believe as they have rolled up, year after year. But SIXTY. That's in a class of its own. At first blush, I want to shrink away and hide from it. But on the other hand I have some well-remembered good friends who didn't make it to sixty. Looking at it that way, I think I'll choose to celebrate. And taking it further, every single day that's left is something to celebrate too. Now there's a resolution.
I think there are trails to blaze in the business of getting older, and I intend to be out there blazing some of them myself. Just please don't tell me that I am "so active for the demographic..."
My St. Patrick's Day birthday has always been fun. It's not like having a Christmas birthday when the two big days get combined and diluted. And people have always been cute about it, making a fuss as far back as I can remember. Everyone always acts like a St. Patrick's Day birthday is just about the luckiest thing possible. And it's fun to be a member of that small club that has special day-appropriate birthday cards.
Just don't send me cards about drunken Irishmen--that's a concept that has long outlived what humor it ever had. Yes, I am wearing green today--but I think the map of Ireland on my face is really just about all I need!