Rounding The Sun

Birthday presents wrapped in Christmas paper. Hmmm...

Well, I turned 64 last week. Sixty-four is an uneventful age, except for the Beatles song “When I’m 64.” I’ve never thought about whether someone would need me or feed me when I turned 64 because it always seemed such a long way off.

Yet here I am. Feed me!

I suppose the age is most commonly associated with being “almost old enough for Medicare,” another milestone I had given little thought to until I hit sixty.

Mom keeps it real

I was talking to my 92-year-old mother the other day, and when she wished me happy birthday, I said, “I often wonder how I got this old.”

She replied, “How do you think I feel?”

I caught me off guard. She’s got almost 30 years on me. I guess age and aging are all a matter of perspective now, aren’t they?

Birthdays as a kid were the best.

When I think back to memorable birthdays, only a handful really stand out. So many are small, forgettable affairs; anything that isn’t recognition of a major decade usually just involves a nice dinner and that’s it. Because my wife’s birthday is 4 days prior to mine, we usually just celebrate by going out to eat. We rarely buy birthday presents for each other, which is likely a carryover from being broke at Christmas because we were so busy buying gifts for everyone else. And don’t get me started on the greeting card thing. We often joke about using that $6 to get another drink at dinner when we dine out on our birthdays.

But like I said, a few birthdays stand out as memorable.

• For my Golden birthday at age 11, my stepfather took me and my mother to a bar in Hudson, Wisconsin, to see the Vikings/Packer game. The game was outdoors at Met Stadium and was “blacked out” because it hadn’t sold out. My stepfather knew I was a football maniac and wanted me to see the game. The game was on a fuzzy black-and-white TV at the end of the bar. Turns out, the Vikings weren’t great that year and ended up getting whacked, but the whole affair made me feel special and just a little grown up.

• My 19^th birthday meant I could legally drink. I did. Too much. Amaretto and hitchhiking were involved. A story for a different time, perhaps.

• For my 30^th birthday, my mom and my wife planned a surprise party for me. I was tipped off that something was going on when the phone kept ringing at Mom’s house where we were staying. We went out for dinner, and when we got back, the living room was full of friends and family. I was surprised/not surprised, but it was a great night, regardless.

Walking in to the surprise 30th party. 1991

• We spent my 60^th holed up in a cozy cabin on a cliff on the Oregon Coast as a windstorm howled with 45-55 mph winds all day. I spent the entire day reading a Richard Brautigan book, “An Unfortunate Woman,” that I’d purchased at Powell’s Books the day prior. As I recall, my FitBit only recorded 68 steps that day. It was therapeutic, relaxing and one of the best birthdays ever. When you’re stuck on the side of a cliff because of weather, you make the best of it.

• On my latest birthday we took an overnight staycation to Cambridge, WI and later that night saw Leo Kottke at the Stoughton Opera House. I’ve wanted to see both Kottke and the SOH for a long time, so for a relatively unimportant 64th we created a memory I won’t forget.

  

  Leo Kottke plays the Stoughton Opera House. 12.11.25

Who wants cake?

I suppose everyone has a birthday or two that they’ll always remember. Some people need more recognition, claiming, “It’s my birthday week/month.” Really? If anything, I’ve become lower-key about it because it’s really just another day. I do however like a good angel food cake with chocolate frosting, a carryover from childhood.

The passage of time instills in me both the feelings of reflection and urgency. As a memoirist, I’m prone to looking back and realizing how lucky I’ve been as well as all I’ve been through. I probably sugarcoat most of the good, making it better than it was.

But it’s the urgency that seems to be more prevalent than ever. We all have only so many “good years” left, and I want to make sure I use them as if they were my last.

• I want to be fully present with my wife and kids at every opportunity.

• I want to give of my gifts and talents, whether it be donating to a cause, volunteering at a food pantry or just sending a card to someone grieving.

• I want to push myself artistically. Since retiring in 2023, I’ve taken a pottery class and am dabbling with acrylic paints. I need to keep stretching these muscles, hoping something clicks.

• I want to travel more. Travel broadens my outlook. It’s a reminder of our global brotherhood and sisterhood.

• I want to use my phone more as a phone and less as an endorphin crack pipe.

• I want to be intentional about holding doors, acknowledging acts of kindness and saying please, thank you and you’re welcome.

• I’d like to continue downsizing and decluttering my home and life. Swedish death cleaning has become a practice for me, and I’m in need of another small purge.

• I want a kinder, softer world and realize that I play a role in that in my sphere of influence.

  These are just a sampling of what I want to do as I enter my 65^th year. Because time is short and it’s getting shorter.

What has your latest birthday revealed to you?