Ancient Wordsmith's Birthday 16/01/10

Today I waken to find that I have been alive on this planet for 80 years, so it is an important day. Yesterday was not an important day and tomorrow will not be an important day. Tradition dictates that I should celebrate the fact that I have managed to avoid major catastrophes and personal disasters for such a long period. Getting old is a natural process, if you are lucky. The main thing that I find distressful is that there is a tendency to spend a lot of time looking back, rather than planning for a finite future. It is enjoyable to look back at any time, especially if the mind is prepared to be selective and hide away unpleasant events while highlighting joyous moments, usually where one has played some positive role. This is why elderly people, of whom I may soon be one, start conversations with " When I was young ...." and reel off some occurrence usually to the implied detriment of the current hearer's behaviour. Therefore I resolve to continue looking forward, and to strive to restrain myself from homilies concerning "the good old days". Tomorrow will begin more good old days.

While thinking about birthday celebrations, I blessed the fact that certain traditions were not carried over to modern adult life. In Brazil and other South American countries, the ears of the birthday person are pulled once for each year of his or her life. In some cases, an extra pull for luck is given. I shudder to think of 80 pulls on my ear-lobe with or without one for luck. In Hungary, this experience is accompanied by a song which says, " God bless you should live so long, your ears reach to your ankles". That's really rubbing it in.

In Canada, the birthday person has his nose greased with butter or margarine, so bad luck cannot hold on to them. This is accompanied by a pinch for each year alive and the ubiquitous "one for luck". It seems that birthdays can be painful places and should be avoided where possible.

I shall conclude with one fashion which I managed to avoid by getting married at an appropriate time. In Germany, it was the practice that when a man reached 30 and still was unmarried, he had to sweep the stairs of the City Hall. Previously his "friends" had covered the stairs with rubble. After he was finished, they strewed the stairs with rubble once more for further cleaning. These sadistic trials were supposed to show the ladies that he was available and was a good housekeeper.

I have had another lovely birthday, with lots of kind words devoid of painful activities. I look forward to the next one.