Ain’t no way. Impossible. Simply can not be. The calendar must be messed up.
I mean, I just had a birthday a couple of months ago didn’t I? Right before Thanksgiving? Or was it just before football season maybe?
Remember it well. Was the 36th anniversary of my 39th birthday. Got two cards, four emails and one telephone call. Some folks even mentioned it on Facebook.
So I have double-checked. And then double-checked my double-checking. And much as I would like to deny it, it really is true that on Monday, Jan. 21 I will have my 76th birthday. And to make me feel even older, that means I have lived for 76 years and now start on number 77.
Apparently the news got out somehow because Monday has been declared a NATIONAL HOLIDAY. How many of my friends can say that happened on their birthday? Not many, if any.
Of course I know that most think Monday is a holiday because of Martin Luther King, Jr. And some in the Deep South think it is because of Robert E. Lee. But that is not he case at all. You see, King was born on Jan. 15, 1929 and uncle Robert was born on Jan. 19, 1807.
So while we may have the day off on Monday because of them, it’s really MY birthday–not theirs.
I am glad to still be kicking. Though hardly as high as I once did. I’m not so steady when I stand up these days and to put on my pants I have to sit on the edge of the bed. No more balancing on one foot while doing so. And the memory is definitely not what it used to me. Coming out of a restaurant today a gentleman spoke to me as if he knew me. I had no clue who he was.
Here’s hoping that as you enjoy your holiday Monday, you remember why you got it.