The older you get the more birthdays become a non-event. While I just turned 60 this week it still felt more like a Tuesday than a special day. (Although it was amazing how many people on Facebook passed on salutations. That was pretty cool.) Growing up my parents made sure the day was remembered. They would allow me to have a party with a bunch of friends up to the age of 12. There’d be about ten kids and we’d play games like Hide & Go Seek and Pin The Tail On The Donkey. I’m surprised we were allowed to keep that game based on the number of holes we’d end up putting in the wall. (Does that game still exist?) There would be the traditional cake, I’d get a bunch of presents and my so called friends would give me the bumps. The older I’d get the more intense the bumps would become. I think a lot of my friends had anger issues. Once I turned 13 the tradition went from a party with invited guests to going out for supper at a fine dining establishment. That was back in the day when we would never go out for supper so it was a real treat. I was allowed to bring one friend. Usually we went to Ericksen’s which is now The Keg. That was some kind of fancy for a kid like me. That was my first experience eating appetizers. For those who remember, they would bring out little seasoned meat balls with some crackers and pate. There’d be warm dinner rolls with butter that melted nicely inside. Then there’d be an amazing entrée (usually roast beef with potatoes) and of course there’d be cake after. I was so full after. But it was the highlight of the year other than Christmas.
The older I got, the more I ended up doing my own thing with friends. It became just another excuse to go out and drink. Age has never really meant anything to me. It’s cliché but really it’s just a number. I’ve been fortunate to be fairly healthy give or take a couple of replaced hips. There’s your milestone ages: 30, 40, 50 and now 60. To be honest, nothing really stands out about hitting those new decades although my wife surprised me on my 40th by sending me a bouquet of flowers. No one had ever done that before and I actually got tears in my eyes. And then I went drinking. Drinking seems to be a theme in my life. (Maybe that’s why my liver whimpers whenever I open up a bottle of wine)
Turning 50 wasn’t particularly special and this week turning 60 isn’t all that meaningful other than I can now get my Canada pension. I figure I should get it now before all the money runs out and all you get are gift cards to Blockbuster.
Someone told me that 60 is the new 40. So I think I’ll open up a 40-year old bottle of wine and play a little Pin The Tail On The Donkey.
Mark Boogieman 