A 57 year old birthday party

Last night, we celebrated the birthdays of several family youngsters. It was a lot of fun. At 57, I no longer want to celebrate my birthdays. It just reminds me that the end is near.

Celebration of birth is a wonderful thing, and should be. At 57, it should never happen. What do you get the man who has everything? Penicillin? Seriously, there is nothing that I want. I have all of the clothing I need or want, including jackets, warm and light.

And even though my wife is 39, I still have no idea what to get her. I told her this year to take pictures of exactly what she wants, along with a backup, in case the other item is sold out. Her birthday is in January, so if I blow it for Christmas, the expectation for her birthday will be very low.

Maybe low expectations aren't such a bad thing. In fact, the lower, the better. That way, I can't miss. I got her several Groupon items I thought she would enjoy, but since you can't open them, they were a bust. That's why gift cards are out of the question. She thinks they're too impersonal. I think they are great self defense mechanisms. If the recipient buys something stupid, you're off the hook.

The party last night was held at a place called "The Pizza House Café", a really cool place, with a salad, pasta and pizza buffet. The problem was that I don't do well at a buffet. Little or no self restraint, so I always feel too full when I leave. Its far too tempting.

Its like going to a brazillion steakhouse. They leave a wooden token on your table that is red on one side and green on the other. Green means they will keep coming to your table to offer up delectable meat products. I haven't been to one for a few years, so its about time to jump in again. After all, that much meat, once in a while won't kill you, right?

See you tomorrow.

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