Birthdays, Mine. Part 2

　
      PART 2                                      BIRTHDAYS, MINE


I've never been overly interested in my birthdays. They came, they went and I

was always glad when the day was over. Plus, as I got older,the fact that each

one advanced my age, made me even less thrilled with them. (Sure, I know,

‘it’s better than the alternative’ so please spare me that lecture). And, after I

passed the age of 49 I didn't want to tell my age... even lied once, unlike my

mother who never minded  telling, now at 95 still loves to. When my daughters

tell me that I should be more ‘mature’ like their Nana they’re probably right.

And they have always treated my birthday with more respect than I myself

did .When I hit that milestone of 70 years old they planned a large party for

me.The party took place at a lovely local restaurant in a private room decorated

with streamers, banners and balloons. The guests were my Mom, children,

grandchildren, siblings and some close friends. After a delicious lunch they all

 sang Happy Birthday to me, then stood one by one to wish me‘Many More’.

Then it was my turn to stand and a la Joan Rivers, to thank my children for

the party and to welcome the rest of the guests. I opened by saying that “70 is

now the new 60.” That got me some applause from my fellow seniors in the

room and, I noticed, some in their ‘60’s too, hoping they were they the 'new 50'?

I followed it with remarks about that hot fad… ‘bucket lists‘; the list of things you

want to do before you ’go’. With that I took out a long roll of paper and slowly

unrolled it, glancing as I did so at my daughter Debbie across the table. Her eyes,

wide with alarm, sending me a silent message…‘Ma.! No !’ She didn’t know that

the roll of paper was blank, except for 2 words on the top. I winked at her…and

I heard her say in a loud whisper, “It’s okay, she’s doing ‘schtick’ .”

I waved my hand, “But, not to worry.” I announced, I’ll only tell you ONE

of them“, and I read the only 2 words on the paper, OUTER SPACE.

“I’ve always been fascinated with going into outer space,” I told them, “ but

I felt afraid, it’s so BIG out there! However” I added, “now that I am

losing my ‘spatial sense’… you know, that part of your brain that shows

you how to back park…how to get close to the curb but not too close, and

especially how to judge your space from the car bumper in front of you

and the one behind you ? Well, that sense is gone.” There were nods from

some other seniors in the room, those that were still driving, that is.

“Also” I continued,” my sense of direction, which way is North, South, East

or West…? My left from my right…? not doing well either.

“But none of that matters… if I’m in SPACE! ” All I’d have to do is

look out the window to where they point, ‘Over there, that’s Earth…’ ”

As I rolled up the long roll of paper my granddaughter Natalie called out,

“Grandma, you could have been a stand-up comedian.”

“Too late now?” I asked.

Debbie was rolling her eyes.

“Could’a been worse…” I called to her, “could’a done a song ‘n dance”.

When it was over, and we said goodbye with hugs and kisses, Debbie

wrapped up a large piece of birthday cake, the part with my name on it, the

bouquet of flowers and the biggest balloon in the room, (it was actually

the size of a tire) and we put them into my car.

When I got home, because of the lovely April day most of my neighbors

were out on their patios. I took the cake and the flowers into the house, The

balloon with the number 70 in huge shiny silver and gold was on the back seat.

OK, I thought, I’ll carry it in with the numbers to the back. Oh no, my age was

on both sides. What should I do? I went inside to look for a bag to put the

balloon in but I didn’t have one large enough.

There was only one thing to do. “I’m sorry” I said to the balloon, (as it

occurred to me that more and more I was apologizing to inanimate objects,

chairs, coffee tables, etc.) Then with my car key I jabbed the balloon as

hard as I could, until, with a low pop the air came out of it. Then I took

the beautiful colorful flat object, tucked it under my arm and went

inside, waving to my neighbors with my free arm.

It had been a wonderful day, one that I wouldn’t forget. Many pictures were

taken, everyone with their cell phone, (I use mine only for calls.) They’d

turn them into snapshots that I’d put into my photo album for me to look at

and to remember.

But I learned later, it was all there not just for me in my lifetime, but for

anyone else’s…for Posterity! All those little cell phones at the party, weren’t

only taking pictures, but more… videos that could appear on You Tube.
.
SO, now my age was out there, shown on the cake, on the balloons...and my

stand-up comedy routine for better or worse would be out there too.

I groaned, why couldn’t I just have enjoyed my party, with my loved ones

around me and sat there with dignity for goodness sake!

Technology is wonderful in many ways…but.. it is forcing me to

give up my privacy and to be more mature about it.

But I don't have to like it!
                                                              THE END

  NOTE:
　
 I call  'MY SIDE OF THE SENIOR STREET',  FACTION BECAUSE IT IS A BLEND OF
 FACT AND FICTION.