Birthdays and the Modern Man

"Rudy's on a train to nowhere, halfway down the line." Supertramp

I woke up to this lovely metaphor at about 3 AM the other day struggling with my own mortality creeping up behind me, slavering and slobbering over my shoulder while I picked up the ringing phone:

"Hello?"
"Hello! This is Death; we'd like your body back."

This can only mean one thing: It's almost my birthday.

Birthdays.

The very idea brings up memories. You remember as a child the taste of chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream, the wonderful presents, and giggling friends running about the house with a measurable 90:10 sugar to blood ratio running through their veins. Whether it was your birthday, or you were a guest, you’d have a great time. Your stomach may have felt sick from your 100 percent glucose diet, but it was worth it.

You can even look back at the fun you had in high school with your friends messing around, talking about hot girls, Miami Vice, and you’d be running about the house with a measurable 90:10 sugar to blood ratio running through your veins. Whether it was your birthday or you were a guest, you’d have a great time. Your stomach may have felt sick from your 100 percent glucose diet, but it was worth it.


Ah, but let’s not forget about the early 20’s. You and your buddies hitting the bars, drinking shots, arguing about politics, laughing about Seinfeld, complaining about Astroturf, and being part of an unstoppable ratchet effect as the women got more attractive as the night went on. You might even be involved in the frightening ritual of uncoordinated white dancing followed by the eye goggling gyrations of something called an “exotic dancer.” Of course, you had a measurable 90:10 tequila to beer ratio running through your veins and it all sounded like a good idea at the time, although you're pretty sure a few friends ended up tied up in crate on a boat heading to South America. Whether you were a guest or it was your birthday, you’d think you may have a good time if you could only get your head to stop hurting. Your stomach might have returned everything you put into it at around 3:00 A.M., but with all the fun you had, it was well worth it. Plus, how often do you get to snuggle with the toilet at night?

However, as a modern man of a certain age, birthday fun is definitely not as quantifiable as it used to be. I mean, how much fun can a person have without the stylish and ridiculous Miami Vice and Seinfeld plots to keep you entertained? Plus, all your friends are now doing wheat grass shots, drinking caffeine free, fat free, flavor free double lattes and arguing about the merits of such wonderful products as Soy and Quinoa, which I have been told are healthy food products, but could be the names of new, hip, bands. This sort of talk really puts a damper on the fun. Plus, your friends won’t touch the beer because they’re on the South Beach Diet and someone actually brought a wheat free low calorie chocolate cake with natural soy frosting. To make matters worse the only exotic dancing you see is when your friend chipped his tooth on a piece of uncooked quinoa and his constant screaming in pain and running willy nilly about the house is making it difficult to find where to put the dollar bill. In addition, no matter how much you try to keep up with the new music as you listen to alternative radio, you wonder why you get strange urges to crank up Van Halen, Yes or Styx on your IPOD whenever you get a chance, especially at work.

Your students ask who you're listening to then wonder if Van Halen, Yes and Styx are some type of health food, and have no idea that they are really rocking bands.

If you're a modern man and it's your birthday, you have to endure the relentless procession of ‘old man’ birthday cards with the usual running jokes about missing teeth, adult diapers, and Viagra. Let’s not forget the various gag gifts and the fact that you have a huge project due the day after your birthday, so you can forget about even going home early to celebrate with your family.

Plus, a young child at work just walked by, looked sweetly at you, and then asked his mother, "Who is that old man?"

I'm beginning to wonder if they should just change the whole birthday thing to, "Death is just around the corner Reminder Day." I guess that would put a crimp on the whole nature of the day and kill our greeting card industry, so it's probably not a good idea. (Although killing the greeting card industry has a certain primordial fascination you'd probably agree with).

However, as a modern man I'm not going to let this day become anything but a good one, @#$# it. I'm going to enjoy the early morning call from my mother reminding me that I put her through something like 325 hours of labor. I'm going to laugh at the goofy birthday cards, be jovial at the repeated digs I get about my age from friends and family, and I'm going to eat fully sugared chocolate cake and drink a carbonated alcoholic beverage. I will also continue my tradition of running a short distance outside in what I was born in, if you know what I'm saying. If you do, you now probably have an image you really didn't need in your head and I apologize in advance. Hopefully I won't get arrested and it won't be below zero like it was last year.

Ring, ring (pick up phone):
"Yeah, death, I'm not quite done with this body yet. Yeah, I blame that on the cold weather. You've never heard of shrinkage????"