"Put Another Candle on My Birthday Cake..."

I turn 65 today, a somewhat dubious distinction when you consider that short of dying, I was bound to get here eventually. Though the accomplishment merits little more than passing notice, time would appear to be temporarily on my side. 

Am I throwing a birthday bash for myself? Having gone this long without one, I am not going to start now. I am not a fan of the spotlight. Gluten-Free Mama will prepare a Mexican feast, however, featuring tacos, a pot of pinto beans and a Spanish rice dish, with zucchini chocolate cake for dessert.

One for the birthday boy, and one for the guests.

The zucchini chocolate cake comes liberally sprinkled with dark chocolate chips that somehow managed to survive in the pantry, long enough to be put to better use than my just eating them. All farm personnel are cordially invited to the fiesta.

As these things go, every six years or so, my big day falls on Labor Day, as it does this year. One year back in the nineties, I attended the Pignic, Black Oak Ranch’s annual music festival on my birthday, along with 5,000 other revelers. It’s remotely possible that about 4,950 of them had no awareness of the significance of the day, but that was their loss-not mine. 

On September 4th, 1990, I began a new job as a middle school teacher in the Laytonville Unified School District. 38 is old to be getting into the game, but I hung in there for 16 years before standardized testing forced me into retirement. I refused to teach to the test.

I started school my fifth grade year on my birthday, with the result being that I got sick at school, and the nuns called my mother to come and get me. That was the bad news. The good news is that I milked that bitch for three more days off from school, and finished out the week in front of the TV, getting more attention with the house and Mama to myself, than ever before.

Though I was in the Republic of South Korea for a total of sixteen months, I managed to time it so that I celebrated both my 20th and 21st birthdays in the Land of the Morning Calm. My 20th was spent in the company of my older brother Eric, and according to a letter I sent home to Mama, we consumed a bottle of Jack Daniels between us, and played hearts. I told Mama that we had a “cool” time.

I have no recollection of my 21st birthday, except to say that I was so short at that point in my military career (39 days left), I could sit on a piece of toilet paper and dangle my legs, as we used to say in the vernacular.

Taken in the hootch, in Korea.

No, in terms of accomplishments, I hold both October 13th (the day I was released from military service) and November 11th, (Veterans Day) far higher on my list of special days, than September 4th. That being said, I will still enjoy pigging out on tacos and chocolate cake tonight, in the company of family, both mine and the farm’s.

My hair is turning gray, and my mustache is pure white, not flaming red any longer, but that has not diminished the fire inside me. Luckily, though, I have managed to refrain from burning the place down with that internal fire, and confine myself to prattling on paper.

The forecast for today is 91 degrees, about fifteen degrees cooler than the past few days, so that should help keep that fire under control. That being said, I kind of like that fire smoldering inside me; it lets me know I am still alive and kicking anything that does the underdog(s) wrong.

This fire kicks my own backside, occasionally, but I have learned to take the bitter with the sweet.

I remember my birthday, a scant five years ago, a day as low as any I have ever experienced. With Gluten-Free Mama leaving the same afternoon, to go down to San Francisco for surgery, and me having to stay home and tend the home fires, we ate my birthday dinner on the front deck, and I was despondent.

Nonetheless, after having a kidney removed, along with a tumor the size of a grapefruit, GF Mama needed to be in a healing environment, close to her primary health providers, and that had to happen in Willits. Hard times ultimately softened, and the memories along with the hard times, and here I am today.

Never having thought I would ever make it this far, I am content to stumble along, and if I happen to make it once more to September 4th, then more power to me.

If I am lucky, today, the Giants will pull out a victory in Colorado, but I am not holding my breath waiting, or at least, no longer than it takes to blow out the candles on my chocolate zucchini cake. 

Here are a few verses out of the birthday song from the Sheriff John TV show, aired in SoCal during the late fifties and early sixties: 

“Let’s laugh and be happy, like a merry melody,

A song will make a hatrack, look like a Christmas tree.

When you look out the window on a dark and gloomy day,

Break out a smile and in a while, the gloom will go away.

Put another candle on my birthday cake,

And when you do, a wish I’ll make.

Put another candle on my birthday cake-

I’m another year old today.

We’ll have some pie and chocolate cake,

And chocolate ice cream too.

We’ll sing and play the day away

And one more thing I’m gonna do-

I’ll blow out the candles on my birthday cake, 

And when I do, a wish I’ll make!

Put another candle on my birthday cake-
I’m another year old today.

Happy birthday, to me; I’m another year old today.