(SitNews) Ketchikan, Alaska – Birthdays are funny, because you don’t really earn them.
The body stays the course, and a year later Facebook tells all of your friends its your birthday. Then you’re faced with the question of either “like” every post, or do one of those, “Thanks for the birthday wishes, you’re all swell” posts. Or you can do both, then make sure you reciprocate on the anniversary of their birth.
They are certainly more special if you endured circumstances, in which case you are thankful just to be around.
Assuming it’s normal, when it comes to what to do, that’s hard. Birthdays don’t really mean what they did when you were 13, 16, 21, or whatever age it was in the 20s made you think, “what is going on here?” (I hear that happens a few times per decade after 33 or so).
Before I hit 30, a couple buddies and I went camping on the Russian River in California. We walked into town and were poisoned by the dinner special which A. was at a tiny establishment on the edge of town, B. was mussels, C. was made of mussels which weren’t local, D. didn’t taste right, but there was so much butter we went for it anyway.
My stomach nearly turned inside out.
See full column at: