By Stephanie Salter
TERRE HAUTE — As best I can remember, I have never dreaded a single birthday — and never really understood the popular inclination to do so.
What is so awful about marking the completion of another unique year on this planet?
Whenever I hear someone moan about a birthday coming or, worse, insist that ignoring a birthday is the only way to “celebrate,” I want to ask: “May I get someone to put you out of your misery, then?”
Ever since I passed 40 (the equinox of my life if I’m lucky, given my gene pool), my pro-birthday stance has only toughened. To the above “misery” question, I’ve wanted to add: “Take a look at the obituaries. How many of those folks do you suppose would have given anything for another birthday?”
Another year older? Lucky, lucky me.
Forty may, in fact, have been when I perfected my formula for milking birthdays for every celebratory drop. It’s a simple approach, easy to follow, even with a deteriorating memory.
After 30, the “little” ones, those off-years that don’t end in 0 or 5, should be commemorated for an entire week, including both weekends. That’s nine days altogether — or 10 if anyone wants to throw in the Friday night of the first weekend. (And I always do.)
The big birthdays, all of the 0s and any of the 5s after 40, should be celebrated in a manner appropriate to their increasing value.
For the 0s, especially, there should be at least a month in which a birthday gal or guy gets to accept hugs, cards, dinners, cocktails and any gifts that did not begin as an obligation in the giver’s heart.
(Etiquette note for 0 birthday well-wishers who are family or close friends: An e-mail will not cut it.)
I also recommend carving out solitary, quiet time on or near the actual big 0 day for contemplation and remembrance. This is not so much to take stock of your life — it’s too easy to get lost in the failures and shoulda-coulda-wouldas; you can do that on New Year’s Day — rather, the time is meant for acknowledging the highlights of the journey thus far.
Those highlights, of course, start with being born, even if you can’t remember a thing about being there.
One of the best aspects of having a bunch of birthdays behind you, I’ve discovered, is you get to play the “Look at all that’s changed in my lifetime” game. Pick one kind of object, say, cameras, then review the many incarnations you, personally, have seen.
I did this the other day and realized, in still cameras, alone, I have traveled from box Brownies to Polaroid Swingers to Kodak Instamatics (with detachable tower flash, then built-in), to complex but clever 35mm Nikons and Pentaxes, to their miraculous and compact autofocus offspring, to disposables (in an emergency), and now to digital. What a dazzling succession.
The point is not, oh, the world and all its technology is overwhelming me. The point is, box Brownies and two weeks to develop film have given way to cell phone images and instantaneous downloads — and I’m still here.
How can that be bad news?
After a fair amount of contemplation and remembrance, an 0 birthday person should be able to come up with a meaty gratitude list: people, places and events that you are grateful you have encountered.
Write down at least 10 of them. Then, whether you toast with Champagne or chai, celebrate each, taking the time to savor their individual richness. If you have trouble quantifying, do the “It’s A Wonderful Life” test: Try to imagine what your life would be like if that person, place or event never existed.
The final part of my milk-your-birthday formula is to remember to take an active part in the celebration. Don’t wait for others to do nice things for you or to buy that perfect gift for which you have been dropping hints for months.
Plan ahead — particularly for an 0 — and treat your own birthday as you would the birthday of someone with whom you are crazy in love. Except for throwing a surprise party, there really are no limits.
Most important, on your birthday, when you are asked how you are doing, avoid the silent martyr temptation, expecting that people should be able to read your mind — or have consulted their birthday calendars that very morning before they left home.
Don’t deny anyone the opportunity to wish you happiness on the anniversary of the day you were born. It was a big deal then, and it’s a bigger deal every year you’re around to welcome another. Remember the alternative.
Stephanie Salter , who is 60 today, can be reached at (812) 231-4229 or stephanie.salter@tribstar.com.
