They say it's your birthday
It's my birthday too, yeah
They say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you
It's my birthday too, yeah
They say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you
--The Beatles,
“Birthday”, 1968
Okay, so I recently celebrated my birthday. In fact, it was
my 70th birthday, so everyone took a little bit more notice because
it ends in a zero. Our fascination with anniversaries of events, reunions,
wedding anniversaries, etc. that end in zero is interesting and perhaps I’ll
write about that some other time.
For now, I want to concentrate on my birthdays and what they
meant to me. When I was growing up I remember having a cake, blowing out
candles, enjoying some presents and ice cream, too. I was one of four sons my
parents had, so birthdays happened fairly frequently and were nice, but not an
especially big deal.
The First Important
Birthday
The first birthday that really had any importance was my 16th
birthday. For any teenager this was the first gold standard of birthdays
because it meant getting a driver’s license. I began that summer by applying
for a temporary license and signing up for a driver education class at the
local high school. We had a few class lectures where the instructor, the high
school’s football coach, reviewed the rules of the road and safe driving
techniques. Our text was the official state driving instruction pamphlet that I
had purchased to study for my learner’s permit test.
Coach Lindsay divided the class into groups of four and
developed a schedule of times for each group to get in the car and practice
driving. That was actually a lot of fun and we had a mix of students from my
Catholic high school and the public school, so I actually made a couple of new
friends.
When the class was over, I accumulated enough practice hours
with my dad to finally take my driver’s exam in August. My dad and I drove to
the highway patrol station north of town to take my exam. We had a 1962 pale
blue Mercury Comet sedan that was the antithesis of “cool.” The highway patrol
officer got into the car with me and we drove for about 15 minutes (it seemed
like hours!) and returned to the station. Then, it was time for the dreaded
parallel parking test.
I had practiced anytime I could by putting two old wooden
chairs in the street in front of my house spaced apart the appropriate
distance. The testing officer directed me to pull the car ahead of two traffic
cones with a flag sticking out of them. I remember backing into the space and
pulling out very smoothly. Once out of the space, the officer wrote a couple of
things on the paper on his clipboard. He handed me the top copy and said to
take it inside, I had passed the exam!
I don’t remember many details after that, because I was so
elated. Happy 16th Birthday!
The “Draft” Birthday
Two years later was the next birthday of note I remember, my
18th. Now this birthday was definitely a “good news-bad news”
proposition. The good news is under Ohio law I would now be able to purchase
low-alcohol beer (less than 3.2% alcohol, about the same as today’s light beers).
The bad news is I would have to register with the U.S government’s Selective
Service for the military draft.
At this time, the government was moving full tilt into the
Vietnam War and all males were required to register at age 18. I remember going
to the Federal Building in downtown Dayton with my birth certificate and
drivers license and filling out the application. A couple of weeks later the
the card arrived with the notation “1-H” that meant I was going to attend
college and get a deferment until I graduated as long as I took a full-time
course load. This was nicknamed the “draft card,” which was somewhat ironic
because it also was the card I would have to show to prove I was old enough to
buy beer.
A couple of weeks later, my parents and I went to Oxford,
Ohio, for my orientation before I started classes at Miami University in
September. We arrived on campus in late afternoon and in the early evening we
had dinner and a presentation by university officials. About 8 o’clock my
parents and I parted ways and I headed for the dorm where I would stay for the
night, separate from my parents.
After I checked in and met my roommate, a couple of other
guys mentioned they were going uptown to have a beer. With my new draft card in
hand, I joined the group and we had a great time drinking cheap beer, talking
about where we were from, what we were going to study and so on.
As we approached the dorm at about midnight, I heard
somebody playing music by The Beach Boys coming from an open window. As I
arrived at my floor, someone had sprayed foam from the fire extinguisher on the
corridor floor and a few guys were “surfing” up and down the hall.
Welcome to college!
Liquor and Voting
The next significant birthday was my 21st. It
occurred the summer before my senior year in college. The most important legal
result was I would be able to vote, although I didn’t register and vote until
the following year, which was a presidential election year.
Also, I would now be able to purchase liquor and wine and
regular beer. I celebrated my birthday with a couple of friends by going bar
hopping on Brown Street near the University of Dayton. The fact is, I had been
drinking liquor for a couple of years as a fraternity member at Miami. But, it
was still a thrill to step up to the bar and order my favorite, scotch and
soda.
Never Trust Anyone
When You Turn 30
In the years since, most birthdays have come and gone with
quiet family celebrations of dinner and maybe a concert or show with my wife.
One exception was my 30th when Pam held a surprise party at out
house. We had planned to go out to dinner with another couple. Soon after they
arrived, another couple arrived and then another and another and so on.
Soon the house was jammed with people and it was quite a
party! Because I was turning 30, there were a lot of gag gifts with references
to my now advanced age. Advanced age? Are you kidding me!
The actual birthday that stands out most is my 38th
when Pam, her parents, her grandmother and I went to Cleveland to take the
harbor cruise tour on the Goodtime 3. We then went out to dinner and returned to
our house for cake and ice cream. It was a Sunday night and Pam, her dad and I
had to work the next day, so her parents left at about 10. About a half hour
later the phone rang and I expected it to be one of my brothers or my parents.
However, it was our adoption coordinator and her news
was the greatest gift of all. She told us a healthy baby boy had been born in
Honduras and it was our turn. We would be traveling to Tegucigalpa and meeting
our son Brian in a few weeks. That’s why my 38th birthday stands out
most of all!
After that, my birthdays don’t really have any special
meaning. The 65th birthday was important because I turned 65 and
qualified for Medicare, meaning a substantial reduction in health insurance
costs.
Now I am 70 and I hope it won’t be the beginning of the last
decade of my life. My parents were 79 and 91 when they passed away, so it seems
I might at least make it into my 80s. But, my older brother just passed away in
March at age73 and three of my four grandparents didn’t make past 60—my
grandfather was 88 when he died.
So, my point is that some birthdays are more memorable than
others because of the life events associated with them. I do know that my
birthdays have always involved a bit of reflection about where I was in life
and where I was going.
As for you, then next time you have that special day, Happy
Birthday!