I’ve never been overly fond of the

annual chronicling of the slow but sure decay of my biological condition: my birthday.  With that in mind, let’s go over some of the pros and cons of the last significant birthday of our lives that doesn’t feel completely like a countdown to the end.

Pros:

·      The big one is obviously boozing without fear of (legal) ramifications for purchasing and consumption.  This serves any manner of purposes, not the least of which are things like: the ability to render irksome family members little more than white noise at clan gatherings at restaurants or wherever else you’ll need an ID or something as generic as stoking the fires of conversation on an otherwise awkward first date. 

·      Well… Maybe… Nope, that’s it.  Moving on.  

Cons: 

·     Generic birthday banter:  “So do you feel a year older?” *winks*  “No, third cousin whom I only speak to twice a year at best, I feel exactly the same as when I went to sleep last night.  Minus the spins.  And I get that it’s oh so clever to point out that my age in numbers is literally one year higher than it was yesterday, but let’s cut the sh*t and act like adults for five seconds here.  In that same vein, you always get the “so do you feel a year wiser?” from some elderly family member, to which the only reasonable reply is: “What the hell are you talking about?”  Were age a true indicator of wisdom, then prehistoric mammals such as yourself, wouldn’t ask cute-stupid questions like that, Gram. 

·      There seems to be an expectation of increased responsibility.  That sucks.  

·      Hearing: “My Biological clock started ticking! LOL!”  This statement is either not clever, terrifying or just dumb.  Possibly all three.  

·      Everyone pretending to be pumped up, but really any excitement is out of selfishness.  Every birthday is plagued by everyone pretending to be much more excited than any reasonable person should be about getting older, an “achievement” that no one really has any control over, but the 21st such occasion has an extra twinge of self-interest from those close to the man/woman of the hour.  It’s either some variation of “Yay, finally we can go to the bar I always want to go to but can’t because you can’t get in” or “Great, now you can buy me booze” depending on the relative age of the friend.  Frauds.  

·      You’re another year closer to your demise.  The reality of mortality becoming ever more prominent as its weight multiplies, crushing you like a medieval stoning technique more and more with each passing day.  Happy Birthday.