Celebrating Birthdays (etc.)

It is the custom of one of the wife of one of the owners of the company to bring in a cake or two when someone in the company has a birthday.

One of the men here at work had a birthday yesterday, but he was off work that day.

Today, he brought in a pile of hot dogs, buns, chips, and condiments. And there was cake. Seven-up Pound Cake. 'long around lunch time this fellow came through and announced it was time to eat. We went and enjoyed his largesse, wished him well, ate cake, enjoyed each other's company, and went back to work. That has got me thinking.

Two days ago, a man I knew died of old, who had lived what I consider to be an acceptably full life. He was a Good Man and died just past his 91st birthday. His 90th birthday was celebrated by a party with something over 50 and under 100 attendees, with recitations, music, and a meal. That was a good time.

My last birthday, I got exactly what I asked for: Nothing.

For whatever reason, to date I have been a bit of a spoil-sport when it comes to birthdays. I never much cared to celebrate them, although getting a present I wanted was not altogether unwelcome. Today I think my mind is beginning to change.

I had a good time at those two birthday celebrations, and I thought to myself how nice it would be if, at each man's birthday, he brought in $20 worth of cheap food to go before the free cake, and everyone would have a good time, wish him well, and get back to work.

This last Christmas was the first time anyone ever said in my hearing (and it wasn't even said to me) that we give presents at Christmas so that others may practice receiving them, to memorialize the receipt of that greatest gift ever given to our pathetic race.

This past Wednesday, #2 was most ungrateful and rejected a valentine from his sister, despite the candy attached to it. I chastised him for it and said part of being a man is being gracious and part of being gracious is allowing others to present us with gifts, without turning up our nose at them.

I realized even as I said it, that I might as well be lecturing myself. It is turning out to be better for my own character than I thought it would be, to be a parent (thank God).

So, then, I begin to realize by paying attention to those around me that they enjoy celebrating my birthday as well as the birthdays of others, and that there may be something of some merit to this valentine's day business after all.

Last year I said "Valentines Day is For Jerks" and I stand by that, but I have some meditation to do on the subject.

In related news, I discovered quite by accident a few weeks ago that deep thought is short-circuited by the televisor being on, regardless of what is being shown (and there is nothing much worth watching anyway).

The older and wiser I get, the more I realize the poverty of my own rearing. It may be just as well that I don't remember much of my younger days at all, for I don't seem to have derived much benefit from them.