I’m having a birthday party and you’re all invited. I’m not sure where or when it will be, but just keep your eyes and ears open and I’m sure you’ll find it.
Back in the day, we’d sometimes have a “come as you are party.” I’m having a “stay where you are” party. Wherever you are on December 19, just shout out “woo hoo” and my celebration will be complete. People around you will look at you like you’re crazy, and that’s OK. Feel free to invite them to the party, too.
I want to have a party this year for two reasons. First, I’m still two years away from 50, and I do not want to acknowledge 50 in any way. It’s pretty well documented that I do not age gracefully. So, if we’re going to party, we need to do it before the half century mark.
Secondly, the world is supposed to end two days after my birthday, so if the Mayan calendar is right, this will be the last opportunity we have to party on my birthday. I haven’t had a party since I was 11, so I think it’s about time.
I told my wife that I want to have my party down at the seegar store. She said, “So, you want to have a party where your wife can’t go.”
Nobody said she couldn’t go to the seegar store. So I’m not seeing the problem here.
Maybe I’ll have two parties. One where everybody can go with no cigar smoking. We’ll call that the “boring” party. And another one where there will be cigar smoking, poker playing and perhaps consumption of adult beverages. We’ll call that one the “actual” party. You can decide for yourself which one is more suitable for your “stay where you are” non-appearance at the party. “Woo-hoo.”
It’s not that I don’t want all of you to physically attend my party. I just don’t know where I’d put you, and, um, I don’t want to pay for it. Although, I’m pretty sure that neither one of those issues would be actual problems. More likely, I’d just be really sad when none of you showed up. And I don’t want to be sad on my birthday. Although, it is my party and I’ll cry if I want to. Cry if I want to. Cry if I want to. You would cry to if it happened to you.
Wow. Somebody should put that to music. That’s golden.
So, here’s the schedule: Nov. 22, we celebrate Thanksgiving and eat lots of turkey. Dec. 7, we remember Pearl Harbor Day. On Dec. 19, we celebrate my birthday (woo-hoo) and then on Dec. 21, the world ends. Find the tallest building you can and get in the elevator and press the “up” button. When there are that many people trying to get into heaven at the same time, you need to give yourself and edge.
And if the world doesn’t end on Dec. 21, then woo-hoo, it’s Christmas on the 25th. That will be so much better than the world ending. It will be an extra special Christmas, as if the birth of Christ wasn’t special enough.
So, in case we don’t make it to the 25th, the big blow-out is the 19th. Deal? Wherever you are, stay there and celebrate. This is going to be great. I’m pretty stoked.
(c) 2012 by David Porter who can be reached at david@ramblinman.us. All rights reserved and celebrated. Aww, who am I kiddin’? Everyday is a party for me.
