At some point in my teenaged years (and, yes, I can remember back that far) I never expected to reach age 30. All of the young men in my father’s side of my family — including my dad — died before 30 so it seemed predetermined that I would buy the farm before starting my third decade.
Had a hell of a party on Dec. 17, 1977 — my 30th birthday. They still talk about it in Alton, Illinois. From what I can remember of it, the event set new records of debauchery that may never be broken.
The celebration for 40 seemed anti-climatic. By 50, birthdays seemed old hat (or old age at least). Even 60 brought little trauma.
But as age 63 approached this week, it came with some apprehension since the birthday was just tw0 days after back surgery that — depending on the outcome — could have a profound effect on the rest of the life.
As it turned out, the surgery went well and age 63 arrived this morning with little drama (except, perhaps, for an insistent dogs who — for reasons known only to the dog gods — insisted in going out into the snow to turn parts of the white stuff yellow).
Lord. Sixty-three. I now qualify for all senior citizens discount programs. My legs and back show a willingness to keep working for a while longer. I should be back on my motorcycle by March or April (If I can just find where Amy hid the keys).
More later but I’ve decided t kill the dog because it’s too damn cold to take him outside and any animal that wants to pee outside in these temperatures doesn’t deserve to live anyway.
Glad you’ve made it to see the dawn of another year – Happy Birthday! Are you home now? What kind of surgery did you have on your back?
For the god’s sake man, don’t kill your dog because he wants to pee in the snow forcing you to nanny the process. One minute yur a tough pirate, the next yur a wuss because it’s too cold outside. In fact one of my favorite things is going out in the night under the moon and stars on a cold, cold night to take a wiz. It surely beats the boredom of the bathrooms in the house. It makes you feel vital. Rest assured dear readers none of my neighbors can see me. I’m on acreage with privacy as Doug. Hey maybe I should build an old fashioned outhouse too. That’ll kick up the ‘vitality factor’ a notch…no?
I always ask for my seniors discount and it adds up. I just had my septic tank pumped and when the guy was filling out the invoice I immediately panhandled for the discount. Hey it saved me $40 a 10% discount. My curse is that I don’t look anywhere near 65, many say more like mid to late 40’s. Many times they card me to make sure I’m not spoofin’. I wished they’d do that for liquor purchases too which would really pump my ego. 😀
Carl Nemo **==
Happy Birthday…! : )
Nemo **==
A Happy Birthday to you. Wait ’til you hit 77. It does not sound right this year when I say it out loud. How could those years have flown by so quickly.
Have a good recovery from your back surgery. Take it easy for a while.
MaryB in Solana Beach, CA where it is raining. One day last week it was 85 in San Diego. At the beach it was 73. The temperature goes up one degree in Southern California, for every mile inland you travel until you get to the mountains.
Belated happy birthday, Doug. And is that a Jimmy Buffet reference in the headline? You beat me to the same milestone… by a whole week! I knew you were older and wiser, but at least the “older” gap is narrower than I thought. 🙂
PS Check out my new website project, coming soon to the address above.