Bucket list

A couple of my co-workers celebrated their 50th birthdays recently. It won't be long before I'm facing the same grim milestone.

I feel like a grump admitting it, but I've grown to hate birthday celebrations. Unless you're under the age of 19, is a birthday party really necessary? I don't expect anyone to mark the day I entered this world, except for my parents and my spouse. Are any of us with a driver's license all that excited about getting older?

SO and I figure we have about 25 good years left. Anything after that will be gravy, and depending on our genetics and environment, it might be lumpy gravy at that. Our own parents, well over the age of 65, have a combined list of ailments that includes (but is not limited to): osteoporosis, arthritis, high cholesterol, bipolar disorder, prostate cancer, fallen bladder, and cataracts.

Sometimes I ponder the sentiment, "Die young and leave a beautiful corpse." It's catchy, but a recent brush with the Grim Reaper left me certain that an early death is not on my Top Ten list of things to do. Heading westbound on I-40, a semi-truck threw a tire in the eastbound lane. My hands gripping the steering wheel, I watched as it bounced (in apparent slow motion) on the line dividing my car from one to my right. In the rear view mirror, I saw it hit the shoulder and roll harmlessly into a ditch. There was a surge of adrenalin. My hands started shaking when I imagined it deviating slightly and crashing into my windshield. I would have bit it but good. As for a beautiful corpse -- well, I'm sure it would have been a closed-casket ceremony.

If I had a bucket list (and I don't), I'd feel pretty good about marking off some things. True, I'll probably never tour Europe or hike up to Machu Picchu, but I've seen the Grand Canyon and driven up Pike's Peak. I wrote and published a book and I found my True Love. I had a part in creating two unique and entertaining individuals and I've laughed -- a lot. So when the end comes, it comes.

I just hope it comes without any surprise birthday parties. I hate those things.

Misty birthday-colored memories

Tomorrow's my birthday. I had a couple of work pals surprise me and take me out for a birthday lunch, and that was nice. It got me thinking about some of the best birthday memories I have:

• One, of course, was being born, but I'm a little hazy on that. I know there was a bright light and lots of noise, and I got smacked around a little bit, but it ended well. I got a pink blanket out of it.
• There were plenty of parties with annoying kids who pinched me, busted the pinata before I got a turn, and made fun of my lop-sided, microwaved chocolate cakes. That wasn't so great.
• I got a Sweet 16 party, and my parents invited the boy I'd had a huge crush on for three years -- to his credit, he was nice enough to attend, but I'm sure inside he was cringing.
• When we lived in Washington, our circle of friends threw some great and creative parties for birthdays. One involved a hair-ball puppet; another centered around a handwritten story featuring Star Trek characters and an Organic Life Form (OLF). Those were the salad days.

Saw my favorite sister yesterday. She and her husband were on their way back to Colorado. They stopped in to say hello and wish me a happy birthday. "The older you get, the less of a big deal it is," she said, handing me a card my parents had asked her to deliver. (They live in town, and refuse to mail anything to me -- why waste a perfectly good stamp? If my sis hadn't brought the card over, I'd have had to pick it up myself.)

I agree with her on some level. I don't want expensive gifts. I don't even want cards, but I get a secret pleasure out of ecards, emails, and phone calls. I like it when people do stuff like that. It makes me feel a little special. It's nice.

One of the best gifts I ever got came out of the blue a couple of years ago. One of my co-workers had recently retired. She called me on her cell phone from the beach and let me listen to the breaking waves, knowing how much I loved the ocean. I will never forget that. One of these days, maybe I'll spend my birthday at a real ocean. Or, if global warming really kicks in, my little Oklahoma house might be situated on beachfront property.

Awesome!