When my friend Joan asked if I was excited about my birthday I said, oh yes, so much so, I’m draping black crepe along the windows like when Lincoln died.
Excuse me while I start on the mirrors.
It’s not that I’m depressed over my birthday, I’m just a little stunned at how many I’ve had. I feel like Yul Brynner in The King and I, thinking it’s merely one more curtain call.
I also notice, no one asks how old I am anymore. You’d think that would be a relief, but it’s a hint that I’m up there with the Chyrsler Building, still glamorous, but from ten miles away.
I can’t say I mind being remembered. I don’t, providing it’s done on the QT.
When gifts arrive through the mail like spies in quilted envelopes, I’m just tickled as I fib to the doorman and say, oh, it’s that book I ordered. It’s about time for Pete’s sake.
Yes, I say corny things like that as if it were an episode of Leave It To Beaver.
Why I feel the need to lie to Tom, Dick and Abdule, is a mystery, but the Mata Hari in me lives, even if she’s a tad arthritic.
My super, whose mouth I’d like to stuff with a gym sock said, “Too bad you got no man to celebrate wit. Wanna go for pizza? I’ll take ya, so you ain’t alooo-ne.”
Yeah I know, wasn’t that sweet. Well, feeling like little geriatric Nell who can’t get a date so her super offers her a slice out of pity, didn’t exactly boost my spirits.
“No thanks Frank,” I said, “and who said I’m spending it alone?”
I was, but he didn’t have to know that. I even went so far as to put on a dress and let him see me leave. I came back when I knew he was gone bribing Enrique the night man.
Money never loses its appeal.
We like that.
I’ll admit, it would be nice to have a beau, one I could stand, one who would enhance my life as oppose to stealing it. At my golden age, you interview, Google, get FBI records and blood tests including, whether they have body odor or not.
Not on my Bean comforter if you smell like Times Square there Mister. No sirree.
Being self-possessed comes with a criteria after all.
Well, before you know it, my 300th birthday will have passed.
I do kinda like the black crisscrossing the front windows though .
Just might add some pearls. 
SB
Basic black with pearls. You know how to dress an apartment. Even with a birthday, you haven’t lost your touch. hb!
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That funeral home look never goes out of style…:)
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Very funny! So whatsa matta? Ya cudda hada slice of peeeza! Happy birthday!
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Fagettaboudit Kate.
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Happy Birthday!
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Thanks Steve. It’s almost over. Can’t say I’m too disappointed…sigh
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I know how young you are but I’m a gentleman who doesn’t bring up a woman’s age. I live in CT now so I know that. Hope you had a great day! Xoxo Hal
Hal Rubenstein from my iPhone
>
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Yes, in the land pf culottes and barbecues, the age of wine and cheese is the only one we discuss. Excuse me while I write my thank you notes. They don’t call Connecticut the old Nutmeg State for nothing…:)
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Happy Birthday, however you spent it. Birthdays mean nothing to me, I have one coming up this week too 🙂 It’s just another day for me. No biggie. Your sense of humor still shines through no matter the age, so there!!
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On my deathbed, I’ll be telling a knock knock joke…well, let’s at least hope. Happy Birthday Loretta whether it’s a biggie or not. 🙂
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Ha ha ha too funny! Make sure you publish on WP before they whisk you away 🙂 Not sure what’s big anymore… Is 66 considered BIG? 🙂
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That’s funny. Yes, we will have one last toast, I mean post. 🙂
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Thank you…:)
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Well now … another Cancerian to accompany me down that awful age lane in toys-r-us.
Hell … I never thought I’d reach 70. YUP … I said it. Wha … you gotta problem with dat?
OK … enough fun. You don’t have a problem with it. I’m sure.
But, I have a problem with that # I just added to this comment. I feel like 40 in my head. Physically, not so much.
I say the hell with birthdays. I don’t eat cake anyway.
Happy … Happy … Happy … Birthday – May there be many more healthy and loving years to come … or wine. 😂🤣🎂🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈
Isadora 😎
ps … July 20th
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So Issie..ya wanna slice?
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LOL … if I wasn’t gluten intolerant I’d be sprinting to enjoy that slice. 😎
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He’d be ready with his Mickey Mantle Money Clip he won catching a fly ball. 🙂
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I had just liked this and thought that would be enough said. BUT … that Mickey Mantle money clip wouldn’t stop floating up there in my mind. He sounds like he’d be playing Casanova role to impress me. MMMmmmm … thinkin’ he could get creepy. But … what the fa it’s New York. Sorrrrrry … I just had a say it. LOLOL
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You once lived here so you know it’s Central Casting uptown, downtown all around the town, as the song goes. He’s a trip. He meant well in that Mickey Manyle sorta way. Aye. How bouta bagel. Your favorite. 🙂
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😂🤣 😎
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Happy belated birthday, Susannah. I just had mine on the 15th. Pookie and I spent a few days with friends from high school who bought a home at Hampton Beach, NJ. I never minded a birthday until I turned 65. Being on Medicare made aging pretty hard to ignore or deny. Although when I went to renew my driver’s license I passed my eye test with flying colors and they let me keep my photo which is 24 years old!
Pookie (6 yrs younger) jokes that at night he sometimes feels old age creeping over him!
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Happy Birthday to you too Skinny. Ya still look and act like a young chick. 🙂
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Happy birthday, Susannah. I know just what you mean. I look in the mirror and wonder happened, too!!
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Mirrors. Who invented them anyway? Thank you. I always like when you write. 🙂
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Happy B’day! I like having birthdays. If I don’t have one that will mean I am dead and I don’t like to travel to places that no one has written a first-hand account about.
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That’s a good point you just made. You’re very funny.
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Ah and here am I, interested in many, but having always a hope for some young lady (just for dating, marriage not really on the plate) will enter into my life and not giggle as she leaves. Birthdays had ceased to bother me, but as the 60 approaches, I do think about it…just a little.
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You’re a young man still Kindred. I’d have myself a wild party if I were you…:)
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I will, definitely, give that some thought!
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So glad your birthday was privately enjoyed ❤
Something tells me that slice of pizza would have ended in an awkward marriage proposal promising a lifetime of dinner company.
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I just saw Frank on his knee proposing with scammootz on his chin…aye
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The transition from middle age to elderly is rough because we’re struggling to maintain our physical appearance and stamina. I don’t think seniors care about that anymore, which is enviable. So the way I see it, as long as I still have my vanity and locomotion, I haven’t reached old yet.
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Love the term, locomotion. Makes me want to dance.
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One year older, one year wiser – aka standards go up by one notch. You go girl x
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If you say so.
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