Birthdays for Grownups

Birthdays. Most will remember their childhood birthdays as a time for parties, cake, and presents, just like I do. Sleepovers with friends, getting to specify your own special dinner (usually pizza), and a day of all-round fun. It helped that my birthday often fell on a holiday weekend, which just made things all that much better.

Now, however, birthdays are less of a time of celebration, and more of a time of contemplation and relaxation. Every once in a while the big party with friends is nice (my thirtieth, for example). Mostly, however, all I want is some quiet time, a cake, and a little pizza. Old habits do die hard.

So what does the good birthday look like to me? This latest one could not be any more idyllic.

Wake-up! It’s your birthday!

Though we are in Lent right now (which means no caffeine for me), the day’s wake up went well. No unhappy kids, and hey, I have the day off of work too. Who needs coffee when you get a special pancake breakfast with the family? The flash of inspiration from D was memorable.

Hey kids!

Have you ever seen the Garfield and Friends cartoon? No? Look it up on YouTube, it was funny…when I was eight. Anyway, since you haven’t seen it, you won’t understand the clown reference, so we’ll move on.

My first stop of the morning was in C’s preschool. I have never had a chance to attend for any length of time, and was looking forward to seeing how the place is managed. Fourteen four-year-olds in one room sounds like sheer chaos.

Of course Berta was in attendance, so I ended up being drawn up to the front. I fielded questions about guide dogs, prosthetic eyes, fire alarms, and was even sang Happy Birthday by fourteen piping voices. Sorry for interrupting class, teachers, but hey, it was fun.

Food and Relaxation

A quick follow-up at the ENT for J confirmed no physiological issues, which was good. Then it was off to Panera Bread for lunch. Just a tip, if you ever think of opening a sandwich place, you will fail if you don’t have outstanding bread. Great bread means great sandwiches, and I will pay well for great sandwiches.

So lunch is done, and it’s time to head for home. After all, there is a cake to bake! And we have not yet reached the relaxation part of the day.

Walk through your grocery store and you’ll find all kinds of boxed cakes. Keep walking, ignore them all. Make the thing from scratch, and enjoy the results. Besides, the mess that kids make in baking is fun! Just remember, I do not like chocolate.

So three enter into the kitchen to do battle with food processors, batter, and a pan. I, on the other hand, grab the sticks and launch into a drumming session. The relaxation has begun. Even with interruptions, I probably played for an hour-and-a-half, and though the magic wasn’t there most of the time, I had sparks of feeling good.

February?

No surprise, since I’m writing this entry now, my birthday is in February. That usually means cold wet days when you live in the Pacific Northwest. This birthday, however, was brilliantly beautiful! I didn’t look at the weather to get the high temperature, but it was at least in the sixties. In fact, it was warm enough that after baking the cake, D went out to clean the car. C was allowed to (under supervision) skate over to the neighborhood park on her own for the first time, where she shortly fell in with friends. I’m still drumming at this point, but the sun is starting to call.

J finally catches wind that his sister has gone over to the park, and now he won’t be stopped. So D drops everything and the two of them wander across the street. The house is quiet, except that I’m still drumming, and the sun is calling.

Finally I give up the sticks, grab a guitar, and spend the next forty-five minutes sitting on the front porch steps, barefoot and in short sleeves, playing guitar and watching the kids play. Could this really be February? The relaxation sets in.

The Party at the End

February was warm that day, but the sun goes down early. We were all back into the house by 5:00. I had an hour of homework to do, including a conference call, and then it’s time for my special birthday dinner, cake, and watching the Olympics. Though I had to do some “parenting” later on in the evening (C is having issues listening to instructions lately) the evening was quite nice. The dinner, of course, was pizza…

In Conclusion

My most recent birthday marked what I call my entry into middle age. I am now one-third of my way through what I call my expected lifespan. While I look back on the first third with happiness, I look with greater emotion to the next third. It excites me to no end to look at the potential and possibilities. In the next third my children will grow up, and probably start families of their own. My wife and I will find fulfilling careers and unknown talents. I will play at least one guitar into oblivion, and will love every last note. In short, bring on the middle ages. I can’t wait!

Celetrityism vs. Society

Jonah went down early, so I was able to enjoy a bit of television. Discovery was showing a special on the crash of Cactus Air 1549. You probably remember it as the plane that went in the Hudson River.

The special was fantastically produced. The crash was viewed from many different angles, and we really received a sense of why the pilot was so special. Could someone else have performed the same tasks with the same accuracy? Maybe, but he was there at the time, and he had the results.

The special emphasizes a point that has grown significantly in me over the past year or so. I am becoming very anticelebrity. I find myself turning away from movie stars, professional players, and other limelight hoarders. In the end, they mean nothing more than temporary entertainment to me.

Think of your favorite television star. What do they contribute to society? What have they done to improve the world? Now, try to separate their actions from their image. What of the things they have done, the money they have donated, was not done to improve their own image? Be honest with yourself, and look beyond the interview. What do actions say, especially when compared with words? Is this person truly someone you want as a role model? Are they a positive or negative influence on your and other people’s lives? Are they someone that should be placed on a pedestal for society to emulate? If not, why do you care about them beyond the brief time that you see them performing their job?

Hero

You find the little heroes in your life every day. Occasionally, if you are lucky, you will run into a truly outstanding hero. These people exhibit the pure fire of love, compassion, or selflessness either incidentally or continuously. They are what you want to be, even if you are at their level already. Are you a hero? Remember, you needn’t be perfect, just a positive force.

Positivity is not, in this case, defined as the happiest person in the world. Positivity is a characteristic of creating beneficial change in the world. You create the moments in your own or others lives that generate improvement. Like the so-called “butterfly affect” you create a better world by coincidental or (if you are lucky) direct improvement. You donate your time, talent, and treasure to a cause, a person, a thing resulting in betterment.

Celebrity does not equate to heroism. Limelights follow dastardly characters as well as pure. As you wander through this life, try to find the heroes that matter. Find the people that make your or other people’s lives better. Honor them, not the guy whose only talent is catching a football or the woman who makes an enjoyable movie. Honestly, do you want to model your life after a college dropout that can swing a stick at a ball?

I’m going to close this one out with a lyric from Rush. Yes, I think that they are talented artists, but in this case their words mean more than the music they play. Think on these words, and ponder your own definition of hero:

Hero…
Saves a drowning child,
Cures a wasting disease.
Hero…
Lands the crippled airplane,
Solves great mysteries.
Hero…
Is the voice of reason against the howling mob.
Hero…
Is the pride of purpose in the unrewarding job.
Hero…
Not the handsome actor that plays a hero’s role,
Hero…
Not the glamour girl, who’d love to sell her soul,
Hero…
Not the champion player who plays the perfect game.
Hero….
Not the glamour boy who’d love to sell his name.
If anyone is buying, nobody’s hero.

(Note: Some license taking with the organization of the above lyrics with intention.)