It’s my birthday today! And I have a tradition every year of posting my age in bacon on Facebook. You see, when I got divorced I decided to get in shape by binging TV on an exercise bike. The show I binged was Breaking Bad – 5 seasons in 5+ weeks on that bike damn near killed me. Eventually I lost 55 pounds and when my birthday rolled around I took myself out for breakfast (solo, natch), and realizing I was exactly Walter White’s age, I did what was done a couple of times on the show: laid out my age in bacon on my plate and took a picture. I’ve done this for eight years now. Here’s this year’s bacon:
My tradition began 14 years ago when I turned 50. Someone asked what I was doing for my birthday. I looked at them and said, “I’m turning 50, I’ll be celebrating my birth week”.
Mmmmm Bacon!! I love bacon. And what a wonderful tradition to eat a piece of bacon for every year you’ve been alive on your birthday. That is way better than candles, which any reasonable person would use to wish for bacon… wait, what’s this I see? That’s not 60 pieces of bacon, it’s maybe 3. I hope you had the other 57 rashers on the side.
Hey! 60 years, that’s something! You should stop talking about bacon for a few minutes and focus on that.
I tried to do something special for my 50th, but I over-reached, and the whole world shut down. For last year all the restaurants were closed, and we were allowed only very limited contact, so birthday dinner was at a friend’s place. This year I went back to tradition and went to a restaurant for my birthday.
