It’s my birthday today. I am 57 years old.
Sometimes, Father’s Day falls on my birthday, and that’s cool. Some might say it’s not fair, having two special days fall on one, like having your birthday fall on Christmas or something. To be honest, the older I get, the less I like the fanfare. Take me to dinner, but don’t get the big flaming dessert and the singing waiters. Ugh. On Father’s Day, Marie and I ended up in Hood River, Oregon at a greasy spoon called “The Charburger”. Right up my alley. I missed having any of my kids around, but the atmospere was perfect for a guy with an artist’s heart and a taste for beef. There, beneath the long shelf displays of antique clothes irons and coffee grinders, sitting with my sweetheart, I quietly enjoyed one of the best ribeyes I’ve ever had.
When I had my bakeries, I always liked working on my birthday. For many years I was the head cake decorator at my bakery, so I got to decorate many cakes for those who shared my birthday. It was fun to go out into the sales area, to see who the people were who were celebrating their birthday on June 21st , as they picked up the cake I had just finished, and give them a special greeting. “Yo”, I might say to a 13 year-old. “Dude, it’s my birthday today too, and here’s the cake I just made ya”.
Last night, at some friends, Marie coyly and blatantly announced my impending birthday, and many wished me well. Someone said, “Oh, it falls on the summer solstice, cool!" I have always liked that part. In my cocky days, I might have said, “See, that’s why I have such a sunny personality.” But I think our friend Nancy said it best, and most graciously, when she commented last evening, “Ric, that’s where you get your mojo!”
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