Today’s my fortieth birthday. Odd, if only because it doesn’t bother me. Of course I’ve always given my age as one year older than it really is just so I can get used to it.
Birthday memories:
December 1, 1970: My brother woke me up early that morning saying “Get out of bed Jon, you’re four years old today!” and I asked him “Why?” When he explained it was my birthday and what that was I just said “Oh” and tried to go back to sleep. It was only when he explained that there were presents that I saw any point in getting worked up about it, then I got pissed again when I learned that I had to wait until after supper that night to get most of them.
1972: That was the year I might my family promise they wouldn’t decorate for Christmas until after my birthday because Jesus had the entire month to get his well wishes while I just had the day. They kept their promise. (My grandmother was born on Christmas Day 1901 and said that’s why she never could enjoy birthdays or Christmas.)
1976: Every gift I got, by request, was Bicentennial themed.
1977: Every gift I got, by request, was Star Wars themed.
1981: My father gave me the only birthday gift he ever bought me, which stunned me. It was a gold arrowhead necklace (they were popular at the time) and he said “If you were Jewish you’d have been a man for a year but as you’re not you gotta have that extra twelve months. Wear this and remember me when I’m gone.” Really odd sentiment from an extremely unsentimental person. (He died the next month.)
1985: I remember a 49 year old guy saying “Nineteen… damn I wish I could trade with you!” and I responded, and I was totally honest, “I’d make the swap” to a chorus of "Oh noooooooooooo!"s from the other middle aged folks in attendance. At 19, however, I felt much older than I do now.
1987: Long but true story- it was my 21st birthday and I spent several hours in traffic court waiting to fight a speeding ticket. I got it reduced but not erased but almost got arrested and held in contempt for accidentally almost starting a race riot. (The judge was about 121 years old and the reason I was in court ALL DAY LONG was because he had to pontifficate on every single decision: “Well when I was yore age we obeyed the speed limits… when I’se yore age we used to git ourselves a license and wouldn’t dream o’ drivin’ without one… you young people today all disrespectful and just lazy and sorry, tha’s how I see it… when I’se yore age we were respectful and worked and minded our parents… bet that baby your’s ain’t gotta daddy neither have it? Didn’t thank so…”
I was irritated with this full of himself old gas bag long before I got to the stand. I was accused of driving my Yugo… that’s my YUGO- 53 mph in a 25 mph zone, something that would have made my day if it could accelerate to that speed without rattling like the Enterprise going around the sun (which I’d seen one year before on my 20th birthday). I tried to explain that yes, your honor, I was speeding probably, but by maybe 10 mph, not by 25. (The reason I made the distinction is that speeding 25 mph or more over the speed limit is “aggravated speeding” and carried a much stiffer fine and more points on your record which made my already excessive insurance higher at a time when I was doing really good to make any payment).
“So you sayin’ the officer jist flat out lied, then? Got it in fer ya does he?”
No your honor, I’m saying the lawyer was incorrect. If his speed gun was only off by 3 mph it would reduce the ticket to…
“So you’re sayin’ that you think the officer just hates ya cause you drive a red car or maybe your daddy pissed him off or you look like his stepson or sumpin’, that it…”
No, your honor, please let me explain… I don’t contest I was speeding, just that
“Is the officer in the courtroom?”
He wasn’t.
“Well I’d like to reschedule this for a day when he can be heah to defend hissef from yore allee-gations he’s a hateful ol’ codger, cause when you impugn his 'tegrity you’re ‘pugnin’ mine as an officer of this court besides…”
Your honor, I don’t mind a speeding ticket, it’s only the detail that…
“When I was your age boy we respected the po-leece, they was the good guys… they was the ones looked out for us… just axe anyone here back in the thirties, forties, fifties they’ll tell you the po-leece was to be admired… ain’t nobody told ya that?”
Yessir… but you see sir…
“Who tol’ ya the Montgomery po-leece was to be respected? Wadn’t your mama and daddy I don’t 'spect…”
I had had it. And the digs at my parents were unnecessary and I was unmedicated and just to pay the “regular” speeding ticket was going to take every penny I had and I said it before I even realized it
“No sir, it wasn’t. Neither was it Rosa Parks…”
True story: the mostly black courtroom erupted instantly into clapping and “I KNOW THAT’S REAL! THIS IS TRUE! AX HER HOW WUNNERFUL THINGS WAS WHEN YOU WAS HIS AGE!” and he began hammering the gavel.
“ORDER! ORDER! What kind of a snide comment’s that…”
“None sir, it was true. I’ve never spoken to Ms. Parks so she never told me anything… my only point sir is that my car can’t accelerate from stop to 52 mph…”
“Well I’ll tell you sumpin’ about Rosa Parks, I was a judge here then and…”
The prosecutor, another pasty faced white boy, actually interrupts him to say “YOUR HONOR! PLEASE! DON’T SAY ANYTHING ELSE!” because the courtroom was beginning to erupt again. One woman said something to the effect of “He better leave Rosa the hell alone or I’ll call Channel 12 and he’s gonna see one black woman show her color!”
The prosecutor said “Your honor, we accept his plea of guilty of speeding and ask that he be allowed to pay that fine and go on his way with no further comment” and the judge was seething. (Oh man, he was an asshole- stories of his court are legendary- racist, misogynist and damned near immortal.)
“Guilty of speeding! Call the next case!”
Years later I had to enter his courtroom again when I was a witness to an traffic accident in the parking lot of a hotel where I worked. He looked at me and said “I know you from somewhere… and I cain’t place ya, but I know I didn’t like ya…”. He didn’t place me.
He died since Y2K and was still on the bench when he died. He was in his 80s. Evil old fart.
1997: Thirty didn’t bother me the year before but for some reason 31 did.
2000: Bothered me because I was 34 and therefore by Christian doctrine and tradition officially “older than God”.
2003: Interviewed at Auburn University, the only job interview I’ve ever strongly considered walking out of as I hated the biatch who would have been my supervisor. (I’d gotten cold pricklies from her the night before and all morning but when she intentionally belittled and berated another employee in my presence I was “Oh noooooo…”.) I debated "Should I just interrupt her now to say ‘I’m not interested, thanks for your time’ or complete the day and then rescind my application? I went with the latter.
Most of the others I don’t remember.
My goal is to be Merlin and to age in reverse, and the nice thing about being an overweight and unmedicated teenager is that you can have a nicer body and much happier attitude at 50 than you did at half that. And today’s my official quit smoking day (which means midnight tonight) and if I don’t then… well, can’t win 'em all.
So for other Dopers who’ve hit 40, did it bother you? Are there any secret handshakes (other than Parkinsons) or discounts I should know about?
Any birthday memories to share?
