Halfway Bent Birthday
"I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song
I'm twenty-two now but I won't be for long
Time hurries on
And the leaves that are green turn to brown"
- Simon and Garfunkel, "Leaves That Are Green"
"At ninety, one is bent over with age"
- Pirke Avos 5:25
And today I'm not only halfway to "bent over with age", I've also outdone Rymin' Simon's protagonist. I'm twenty-two and twenty-three - added together, that is!
Yes, it's that dreaded date again, the Birthday That Shall Live In Infamy. In my last year's post by that name, I listed some of the luminaries who share my date of birth; feel free to check em out there. I'll come clean today and admit that in addition to those stalwarts, I also have the shame of being a co-12/7-er with both Terrell Owens and Noam Chomsky. Infamy indeed.
So although, in my 45 short years (heightwise, that is) I have yet to achieve fame - not even my allotted fifteen minutes of it - at least I haven't become infamous, either. I suppose that has to count for something.
But I will say this: I will never dread getting old, as so many do in our youth-obsessed culture. As my Zaideh, who died a few weeks after his 101st birthday, used to say: think of the alternative.
So send your electronic good wishes and Geritol coupons this way!
PS: Thanks to Soccer Dad for the blog-birthday wishes!