Birthdays

I dislike birthdays - not for any religious reasons. Not because I dislike gifts.

It's because mortality is hanging over all of us, and every year, they force a reminder on us.

"Congrats! You're old!"

At the time I'm writing this, I'm 34. By the time you see it, I'll be 35.

"You didn't die! Have some cake!" (I'm not a fan of cake, either, but that's another post for another time.)

The other great thing about birthdays is the arbitrary ways we use them to divide up our lives.

"I'm 16! I can drive!"

Who chose these numbers? At 16, I wasn't mature enough to be trusted behind the wheel of a car. Not even close.

At 18, we get to vote here in the US. Great. Fine. Wonderful. I know some 30-year-olds who I'd love to remove from the voting pool. Not because I disagree with their politics - it's because I don't want someone that stupid having any influence at all over my future. I wish you had to take some sort of test to be able to vote - but the American political system is another rant for another time, too.

At 21, we can drink. This has led to a rash of "21 Runs" - people who get totally smashed on their 21st birthdays at no cost because so many bars give out a free drink to folks celebrating their 21st birthday ...

In fact, I don't see any reason to celebrate a birthday any more than I celebrate any other day.

On my birthday, I sincerely hope that none of my co-workers remember when it is so I can spend the day in peace and quiet.