I was at my favorite bar last night. One of the many very cool bartenders and I were talking. I've known her for some time...she used to be the most abusive and coolest of the late night staff at the area diner. Partway through, she told me, "this cute guy who only comes into town a few times of year told me he thought I was about 32...so of course I got his number."
We laughed together for a few moments. I responded with the story of when another bartender told me she thought I was about 34, and I grabbed her shoulders for a very sincere yet overly dramatic "thank you!!!" Of course, this led to the inevitable "how old are you anyway?" I told her that she wore her age well, and she told me "you wear your age very well." I almost wanted to blush.
I've got a song which has the lyric "I still think of myself as a teen, but the world just won't agree...it only seems to notice the lines on my face." This is only half true (my songs are rarely autobiographical...or, for that matter, all that true); I do feel much younger (particularly mentally) than my physical age, but I've been hit with an onslaught of people who claim I definitely don't look my age. I don't understand this, but I'm okay with it nonetheless.
I was out last night because at 12:01am, it was my 44th birthday. I went out with a friend. For the first time in over three years, someone's wanted to celebrate with me. Actually, now I think of it, my 40th was the last birthday party I had. Maybe that's why people make such a big deal of 40...it marks the end of parties. Just a theory.
Anyway, I had a great time, and the only real reason i'm feeling older today is the stupid two week cold I'm battling.
I've spent the day curled up under a blanket, reading a World War II history. My daughter has been more excited about it being my birthday than I. Every so often, my phone will go off to let me know someone else has Facebook-wished me a birthday...which is cool, but I'd rather have them close so we can hang out. Other than that, not much has happened.
When I was younger, birthdays were monumental, an event. Not any more, though. Getting birthday brownies is cool, but it's a far cry from the parties in my past. I don't even think about gifts anymore...it's not that I don't want stuff, but the only things I want are way out of my financial bracket...which, now that I think of it, is pretty much the same thing.
Maybe that is the only real sign of getting older, that the landmarks get less important than the voyage itself. Maybe.
Birthdays are, however, still a great excuse to get a little drunk and listen to rock and roll.
(Blog post 800. Thanks for reading.)
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