To Have A Birthday
Tuesday. Oh, dear. The number is a bit startling. Sixty-eight. At least with sixty-nine there's a certain associated chuckle, but sixty-eight somehow seems more serious. When I was eighteen, sixty-eight wasn't a concept I could get my head around, at least the idea of me myself attaining such, living that long, that far into the distance. But here we are at sixty-eight years of age somewhere in a place called Oakland in the state of California. We've come a ways, we have, further than some, less far than others. Whatever that may mean. Best to leave it here, my dear.
Awoke this morning at six, turned off the alarm and went back to sleep. Up for real this time at seven-thirty, got dressed and headed to the dentist's for the checkup at eight. Maybe ten minutes at most in the chair, a look through the x-rays taken last week, a poke or two at the gums, a clean bill of health. Back to breakfast at the usual place, home now after ten.
Anything special planned for the birthday? Meeting with the usual crew locally here at Roy's on Friday (payday for those of us still working), so that's good. Haven't thought about it otherwise, but something will come up. Today it's OK to go with comfort food and such, trips to the movies, to the theater, to bed for a nap. We've added that last one, the nap, now that we've gotten more mature and the body has started to fall apart. OK, we'll stop. We are joking mostly, the world has hardly stopped turning on its axis, but then again, the very idea of joking means we're watching more closely I suspect.
Later. A walk like yesterday's walk about the area, stopping at the book store to look at this and that, the head a bit fuzzy, the eyes seeing two-fer's, but not too two-fer, a thought to have sushi and sake for lunch. Now back at the apartment feeling better.
Evidently this is Fat Tuesday, a name I'm familiar with in the sense it has something to do with Mardi Gras, so I looked it up and found such as Shrove Tuesday, in Iceland "Sprengidagur" (Bursting day), the day before Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. We're not so good with Lent. So maybe we'll see if we can't do what you're supposed to do on a Fat Tuesday before Lent.
Well, maybe we will have some of that sushi and sake for dinner instead of for lunch and throw in an extra nap.
That seems a bit pale for a party. How bout a cake?
Pale is as pale does. If you're happy with a bit of sake, a first and then a second piece of green tea cheese cake and an hour's nap you have absolutely no reason to fret. (hup, hup)
Later still. So the afternoon slides (nicely) to a close. I'll do the sushi-sake thing later for dinner, seems right. Nothing I really want to see at the local theater, but I'm thinking of watching something I haven't seen for years that I still have here on tape. An old pot boiler of some kind that got enough under my skin that I acquired for precisely this purpose. One of the operettas. Something even schmaltzier, maybe, if I can take the sugar. Then again maybe not.
Hmm. I just looked over my pile of tapes and DVD's. I don't have all that many, as I've mentioned. I'm not able to watch even movies I originally loved more than about once in a year. Well, once a year back when, less often now. Can't think when I've last watched one of these things. Not a complaint, really, just an observation, an interesting observation to me at least. Still, the idea is good. I'm looking at the operettas, not seeing any I can manage with a clear head. Maybe one of these Crossroads DVD's. Guitar without the messiness of having to know how to play.
Evening. Back from sushi. A flask of hot sake (not the choice of someone who knows much about sake, but we have our little likes) followed by a small additional flask of sake chosen by the proprietor. Feeling pretty good. I think a bit of guitar practice again as I watch a DVD of some kind - operetta, Japanese samurai classic, Coen brothers favorite, something more esoteric, it doesn't matter - then turning in early to bed. A good day to have a birthday after all is said.