Well, since my friend Dawno saw fit to out me, so to speak, I might as well post about it.
I am not going to tell you exactly how old I am. Let's just say that I officially tippy-toed past the half-way mark of my allotted five score plus ten. Yep, I'm four and half dozen years old.
Wait. Four and two-thirds.
Hmm ... apparently - unlike good looks, sexual prowess and athletic ability - math skills don't improve with age.
There's kind of a story associated with this birthday that I'll probably share down the road a bit. I don't mean to tease. I just mean to whet your appetite with a tad of titillation.
Speaking of mammary glands (writers are SO good at seg-weighing) I find myself thinking of my mother today. (Yes, I was breastfed.) We can't really celebrate a birthday without celebrating the woman who made it possible can we?
Mom died 13 years ago, in a car accident, the same day Jackie Kennedy Onassis died. I wrote a letter to the editor of the Toronto Sun commenting on the two women's similarities but contrasting the coverage of their deaths. (Mom got a couple of paragraphs - you know what Jackie got.) They featured it as their letter of the day. Dad got several copies laminated. I think, at least until my book came out, he was proudest of that little piece.
She would have been the first to call me today. She would have said she was awake at 6:10 a.m. - the time of my birth. I would have said something like, "yeah, right - you celebrated the anniversary by snoring through it." We both would have chuckled.
I have much to celebrate. I'm healthy. I have friends and family who love me.
PS- Nearly forgot. It's also been one (1) year since I quit smoking. Thanks to those who encouraged me.
Now I just have to start chasing some frisky women to rid myself of a couple (dozen) extra pounds.
Ain't life grand?