Another Birthday Looms

FROM WHERE IS SIT  ANOTHER BIRTHDAY LOOMS  AUG 5, 2013  PAT SPILSETH

Another birthday looms on my calendar.  Who thinks that birthdays are meant to be celebrated once one passes 40, even 40?  Of course, another birthday is better than that bitter alternative...oblivion!

One more year and several weeks before my next BIG birthday arrives.  That gives me a year of grace.  I can count my blessings.  There’s still time for me to do what my body can attempt to do.  Forget water skiing, paddle boarding, biking around the lake or canoeing across Minnewaska.  Nope, those escapades are in the past.  Now I simply look forward to dinner out at a special dining spot, a few bobbles and bubbles to lift my spirits, maybe a best seller to curl up with on the deck and friends to discuss the world’s problems.  

My birthday usually arrives on or near the first day of school each September.  That day used to mean a new beginning, a fresh start.  This year, nope.  What happened to my exotic dreams of taking a trip on the Orient Express, having my fabulous fortune read, and dining on silk pillows in some ornate palace in the Far East?  Every day I wake, still looking for some new passion to add zest to my life.  I only see me, in a comfy sweatsuit, reading in my red leather chair, looking out at the falling leaves and cooling temperatures.   

As Andy Rooney remarked when someone said “I see you celebrated your birthday yesterday.”  Rooney replied, “NO, I HAD A BIRTHDAY YESTERDAY.  THERE WAS NOTHING CELEBRATORY ABOUT IT.”

It’s hard to say at what age a person reaches the top of the hill and starts down the back side.  Physically, it might have been when I opted for a left knee replacement and the arduous physical therapy.  Today, I can still ride a bike and walk the dog, but I no longer kneel on that knee, run or do jumping jacks...that hurts.  Thank goodness for ALEVE.  I could be their company spokeswoman selling that healing power.  I’m sleeping more; enjoying a good night’s sleep less.

When others chat with me, nobody has mentioned noticing any mental decline in my thinking or speaking.  But I do notice a few bits and pieces of memory loss.  I make a few editing errors in my columns.  I take pride in my friends calling me “Dessert Queen”, but sometimes I miss an ingredient or two in a recipe.  My tortes and cookies might not be as buttery or sweet as they used to be.  I might forget to add an egg or was it baking soda or powder I was supposed to add?  Priding myself on my “multi-tasking”, as we women are prone to do, no longer am I as efficient as in former days.  Amazingly, I missed the exit on my way home recently!  Day dreaming again?  Oh, well, I found a new way home.  Change is good, someone once said.  

Forget about learning a new language.   I’m simply not interested.  And traveling is such a pain today with skimpier seats on airplanes, no free food to munch on, and most airlines charge extra to check a bag.  And I don’t want to pay through the nose to vacation in countries where intolerant, grumpy immigration agents look at me suspiciously in their gray, depressing, unwelcoming airports in Russia or Venezuela.   I can’t imagine enjoying an overseas trip if I have to fly in some midget airplane seat.  First class might be another story, but I don’t have the extra cash. 

What’s happened to that adventuresome wanderlust I used to enjoy?  I had a good time taking unexpected trips to unknown destinations, meeting interesting folks and tasting spicy dishes.  I only carried a tiny carry-on tote with a change of underwear, a few lotions and a swim suit.  It was fun figuring out another country’s complicated money system, tasting new food flavors, and ending up at some unexpected destination on their tube’s itinerary.  Life was an adventure for me to enjoy!

And what adventures they were.  When in France, I tried to speak their language, but  eye brows shot up and disapproving chins down when I mispronounced their fancy words.  My Midwest Scandinavian accent didn’t work well with their French.  Hey, I  was trying  to speak their language!  In Italy, no matter what country a girl came from, we enjoyed those attentive Italians who shouted “Bella, Bella” as they tried to pinch our bottoms.   And I’ll never forget throwing coins into the Fountain of Trevi in Rome and making wishes.  Some actually came true.  That was an exciting time of life!  However, when I travel now and need a bathroom, I don’t want to take the time to find the correct word in my travel dictionary of another language.  Just get me to the proper room!  FAST!

Who was the wise guy who said “wisdom comes with age”?  Nobody under 30!  As I’ve aged, I think I’ve become more mellow and a bit more conservative.  I have my principles, but I’m quite tolerant of other ideas.  I’ll respectfully listen to the opinions of others, but I will reserve the right to disagree, sometimes strongly.  Usually, I will be Minnesota NICE.

Edna St. Vincent MIllay wrote, “I only know that summer sang in me/A little while, that in me sings no more.”

Well, summer, winter, spring and fall still sing within me.  I’ll continue to sing Happy Birthday to myself and friends, but, truth be known, I’d rather be 33 all over again. 

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