Another birthday come and gone.
“She’s 41 and her daddy still calls her Baby.”
No, my dad calls me Toadums. Anyway, I had a lovely, uneventful birthday, just like I like ‘em. Last year was the big one anyway, so this year I wanted to fly under the radar a bit. I did.
I got exactly what I wanted:
• NO SPORTS. There are exactly two days a year when there are no major sporting events on TV, and they are the day before and the day after Major League Baseball’s All-Star game. The All-Star game is always within a few days of my birthday – this year it was on my birthday – so I had three consecutive days without sports. What could be better?
• CAKE. This needs no explanation. Thanks, Mom.
• GROWNUP TIME. Chas and I actually got to watch a movie, start to finish, that had no animations or Gilbert Gottfried voice-overs. We watched Brokeback Mountain. Thank you, Ang Lee. I may never look at cowboys the same way again. Thank you, Major League Baseball, for the use of my television.
• A MIRACLE. My brother Bocci (the chef) called and asked me how I make homemade ice cream. It started out casual enough, but it turned into my recitation of my recipe. I repeat, BOCCI ASKED ME FOR A RECIPE. This has never happened before, and it never will again. I will not allow the fact that it’s actually Ben & Jerry’s recipe to tarnish the brilliance of this moment. I’m basking.
• MORE CAKE. Better the next day, anyway.
So I am now beginning my fifth decade on this planet, and I still have 28 teeth, countable grey hairs, and an hourglass figure.
Man, I just can’t lie. A hockey goalie’s figure. Suited up.