For Me, On My Birthday

Not since I was say, 13 have I really been too excited about my birthday. Oh, there are the milestone years that everyone gets excited for; I was up every night from my 15th birthday until the day I got my license, (which was not on my 16th birthday because the fates like to screw with me putting my birthday on a Saturday so I couldn't get my license until the following Monday). I didn't too much care about 18... yeah, you can die for your country! Woot! And by 21 I admit, I had worn out the novelty of most of the intoxicants that could be found in a college town without looking too hard, so being able to drink a beer in a bar was not too big a deal.

I have discussed the concept of "birthday as national holiday" as adopted by most of the women in my life in this blog before. I don't have too much more to add on that subject, so I guess I'll just tell you my story. At least, my story as I see it. Telling stories is what I do best.

I am an adopted child, who grew up in a loving nuclear family. I found humor in everything from a very young age. I think I mystified my family with the things that came out of my mouth. One day, coming home from school, I could not have been older than first grade, I told my mom and sister a joke that was so funny I could hardly breathe. I remember literally rolling on the floor telling the joke. It was a stupid joke that made no sense, and I knew that, but it was still funny to me. that joke? Rubber balls and liquor.

Answer every question with "rubber balls and liquor"
What did you have for breakfast?
What did you have for lunch?
What will you have for dinner?
What would you do if you saw a naked lady on the street?

Ok, so pretty primal, but it was killer material back in the day! It is the first joke I remember hearing and the first I remember telling. An inauspicious beginning to what has become a pretty large repertoire of jokes.

I mostly preferred the company of adults. I thought kids were mostly stupid, at least until I got into my teens. Then I knew they were stupid. But I was, too so the playing field was pretty level.

The local creek, or crik as some of the kids of lesser parentage in the neighborhood called it, served as a place learn about nature, hide from parents, get dirty and have fun. One day I fell in at a particularly rocky section. Well, they weren't really rocks so much as they were large pieces of cement left in the basin to break up the flow of the water before entering a viaduct that went under Gentian Street. I scraped up my back very badly. My sister was there and took me home. I think she might have carried me. My hero! It was the first time I remember feeling pain. And it was a lot of pain. So high was this benchmark that I don't really remember feeling pain through the normal spills and scrapes of boyhood that followed.

I fell off my bike a time or two. One time I came home with some pretty bad road rash. I think I was crying. If I wasn't at the beginning, I am sure I was by the end since my dad could only muster, "is the bike okay?" I didn't understand until years later that my dad was smart enough to see I was fine, as I walked in under my own power and clearly had my wits about me. We laugh about it now. I was pretty sensitive for awhile in my youth. I think I grew out of that, too. Mostly.

I was o.k. in school academically. Not the worst, not the best. I always knew I could do better. I admit I left a lot out on the field. All the way through school I did pretty much what I had to to get by. My getting by was mostly A's and B's with a C mixed in here and there just to keep it real. Some of my friends hated that with seemingly little effort, I could bust a grading curve and come out on top.

In fact, I would characterize a lot of my friends as struggling academically, at least compared to me. I didn't hate school, in the learning sense, but I hated going. Elementary and Middle were great, but I suffered a lot in high school. I do not look fondly upon those years at all. At least not the social part as it related to school. I did some fun stuff and had good friends, but I was never very happy. In fact, when I see people now that I haven't seen in high school, my first instinct is to apologize for how I was, because I don't think I was very easy to get along with or very kind. I remember being proud that I could come up with insults and make people very upset without even trying. I didn't use my fists. I used my wits.

There were a lot of things on my mind a lot of the time. The family photos are all smiles, but like most families we had our troubles. Unlike many families however, I truly believe our struggles brought us closer in the end. We have been through a lot together and we love each other. I respect my parents for sticking it out when many of the other parents I knew were divorcing. I respect my sister because she has had a biblical level of hardship in her life and manages to be positive and keep going forward. Her story is positively Homeric in scope, yet she goes on. My family, despite all my jokes and quibbles about them, means a lot to me.

College sucked for the first year. After which it was the best time of my life to that point. I remember one day Sophomore year toward the middle of the first semester walking across campus. The weather was nice and I was in no particular hurry. And it hit me. I knew people. I recognized faces. People knew me and said hi! That was such a simple thing, but it is a lot harder to feel alone when you know people.

Academics in college were similar to high school. I tried harder in college and am proud of the effort I put into my education, though I could have made more informed choices and done better grade-wise. I don't think I would change anything if I could... I knew what I was doing. Well, mostly. After that day Sophomore year when I realized I was jacked into a social network, (the old fashioned kind where people actually occupied the same physical space and interacted with each other), my grades took a one semester dive.

My parents took it in stride, I think, because I don't remember getting the lecture. In fact, my dad told me at that time he once was on academic probation because he didn't have a balance of fun and work. He said he fixed it. I got the message. Good talk.

Earlier this year, I was talking to the parent of a former youth group student who is a freshman in college now. I asked how things were going and the answer was "socially wonderful, and that is the most important thing- grades will come." I couldn't agree more, knowing this student is already smart and wise. The level of confidence I see in her now is astounding versus just a few short months ago. Through this, I was reminded that college, indeed all of life, is about learning all kinds of things in all kinds of circumstances.
My school years ended in a blaze of glory. Literally. My house burnt down and I had to couch it for the last few weeks of my graduating semester. I realized the kindness of friends was very important. This is a lesson not to be forgotten.

I learned what love was, or at least what love wasn't during this time. I swore off trying to find someone or being in a relationship after a couple humdingers with bad endings. That of course is when I met Emily. See, the fates love to screw with me.

And almost 11 years later, I am officially at the dawn of my mid-thirties. I am officially double the age of my oldest youth group participant. Even though my body likes to remind me otherwise, I have to remind myself I am not a kid.

Having fun is still the most important thing in the world to me. I know it exhausts some people because I turn everything into a joke. It is just who and what I am. And I like it. So, don't look for that to change.

Happy birthday to me. The first 35 went by faster than a summer day and almost as enjoyably. I wouldn't trade the rough for smooth as I am like a stone weathered by the elements... I simply wouldn't be me without them. I could go on. I am my favorite subject. But even I am tired of talking about me. There is a tipping point between good old homespun reminiscing a megalomania. I think I just felt the tip.

Here's hoping for great things in the next 35 years should the good Lord see fit to give me that long on his earth.