“There is still no cure for the common birthday.” – John Glenn
Birthdays always bring me down. It’s not my advancing age that annoys me so much (although I’m not thrilled about the fact I can no longer realistically “double” my age). As “that” time of year approaches I begin to experience a weird sensation of anxiety and doom collecting in my stomach. Really, as far back as I can remember birthday wishes have embarrassed and flustered me. I hate to appear ungracious, but I’m uncomfortable being acknowledged and congratulated for an event that I had absolutely nothing to do with. I feel the same way when complimented about my green eyes – it’s strange to accept credit for something that took no effort on my part to achieve.
“You can live to be a hundred if you give up all the things that make you want to live to be a hundred.” – Woody Allen
Birthdays are a time-stamp underscoring the warp speed at which life travels. It’s not death I fear – I am afraid of wasting a single minute of the life that has been allotted to me. I figure that by taking a “head in the sand” approach, ignoring the upcoming anniversary and essentially glossing-over the entire celebration by refusing to acknowledge the passing of days on the calendar, I may be able to cheat the clock. Remember the saying, “You can’t fool Mother Nature”? Well, maybe I can outsmart Father Time?
Orvieto or Bust: 