Zero Significance

Birthday flowers and The Boom Box 

I recently celebrated a milestone birthday—not 16, or 18, or 21—but one of those birthdays that end in zero. A big, fat, significant zero—and I don’t mean the one with the four in front of it, although God bless you for even thinking that was the birthday in question. (Also, you should probably make an appointment to get your eyes checked, but God bless, all the same.) 

No, I’m talking about an existential zero.

Dinner at a civilized hour, I swear

This birthday is the birthday that makes me eligible for certain discounts, and apparently-- my pockets stuffed with coupons--likely to tip over at any moment. And now, at this advanced age, I will no longer spring back to my feet like a female Willy Wonka, but will be surrounded by anxiously solicitous people, inquiring as to the solidity of my hip bones. Now when I get a bit hungry late in the afternoon, the meal I eat will not be presumed to be a late lunch, but rather the tell-tale “Early Bird Dinner.” Dare I eat a peach? Wear white linen trousers, walk upon the beach? 

Oh sure, I’ve seen the chiropractor twice in two weeks, but that’s not because I’m “older”—it’s because I’m “active.” And my grandkids are HEAVY... 

 They say you’re as young as you feel, and I say I feel like—oh, 37. I feel like a bona fide adult--mostly—unless I gather with my friends from high school. Then we go from bona fide adult, to wanna-be bon vivant, to bonehead--- faster than you can say “I know you are, but what am I?” 

Mark has his doubts

Because this birthday was of such significance, I celebrated early, and often—with multiple cakes. Lemon cake, and Rhubarb Custard—which I suppose isn’t technically a cake, but it was cake adjacent. And also delicious. There was carrot cake, and coconut cake. And a perfectly adorable chocolate cake that wished me a “Happy 21(sic) Birthday.” I seem to be on track to have one cake per decade...And since I’m an adult, I didn’t have to eat my peas first. Which will come in very handy as I still have one cake to go.

Birthday Loot and the interior of The Boom Box

Perfect for the Keeper of Memory. Thanks Cee for organizing 

all the goofballs into action. Like herding cats, I suppose.

As young as you feel, right?