I was thinking about birthdays. I have a not insignificant one arriving in ten months or so and I think it pays to be prepared. Especially when you are reaching that half century milestone.
The question is, what to do about it? It is convenient that there is a significant other who will be crossing the same line within a week of me (it’s mildly inconvenient that she looks half my age but I suspect it is more embarrassing for her to be seen out with an old man than it is for me to be seen with a floozy on my arm).
Should we have a joint party? By this of course I mean a party that we are sharing and not a party involving joints of any type (cooked, rolled or wooden). The challenge here would be that one of us is incredibly gregarious and my conversation skills resemble those of the sort of chap you see sleeping on a park bench with things growing in his beard. The party guests will be roughly split 40/1 providing I can persuade my guest to show up in the first place! Then we’d have to consider the music. The last party can remember organising was in an era when the chosen form of dancing was either jumping up and down or vigorous shaking of the head. At our age with my sort of music we may need a team of paramedics standing by just in case of emergency.
I’m not sold on the idea of a party. Just the thought of finding a venue fills me with dread.
Maybe we should go away somewhere. Book a weekend in a romantic hotel. That would work. We could take long walks through the hotel grounds (I’m visualising a country estate somewhere, imagine Downton Abbey but somewhere where the sun shines rather than in Yorkshire) and feast upon the finest fare. Who knows, there may even be a spa there to luxuriate in.
That won’t work. We went to an alleged spa for our 4oth. It turned out to be a health farm. We ended up sneaking out to a pub down the road to supplement the lettuce soup with a tasty pie and had to smuggle a bottle of wine back to our room. Then we didn’t have a corkscrew so we had to bribe a staff member to provide us with one and ended up drinking a not very good Rioja out of the cups that are provided to put your toothbrush in.
There might be some mileage in a longer break. Sun kissed beaches bordered with exotic plants and wildlife. Sipping local tipples from half a coconut shell. I can imagine that. I can also imagine the challenge of finding a responsible person to look after the offspring and the cat. I can see the 8 hours or so cuddled up on the floor at Heathrow because of an air traffic controllers strike. I can almost smell the rank odour of the sweaty chap sitting next to us on the plane and I can feel the tetchy remarks biting home when we are discussing how much fun we would be having at a party instead of being in our 18th hour of travel and only eaten a packet of rather soggy crackers.
I know the best plan. The positively absolutely number one thing that will bring a smile to all faces and leave a lasting memory. Order a crate of wine. Cook a vast pan of something spicy and prepare a pile of naan breads. Invite the offspring and off-shoots of the family round and extend the kitchen table to maximum length. I really don’t think there can be a more satisfying way to welcome the next 50 years in.
Thank you daily post for giving me a bit of grief whilst considering all of this.