An­other year older now

Ayrshire Post - - Bob Shields -

As you read this para­graph – I will nu­mer­i­cally be a year older than I was when I wrote it!

Yes folks, it’s that time of year when I move from be­ing sixty- some­thing . . . to be­ing sixty- some­thing else.

If you want to send me a birth­day cake, then a well known lo­cal su­per­mar­ket do an ex­cel­lent pra­line and choco­late ganache with a layer of crème . . . ( No cakes – you’re sup­posed to be di­et­ing! – Ed).

But se­ri­ously, I reckon there are three kinds of birth­days.

There’s the child­ish one you used to look for­ward to – get­ting lots of presents and all the at­ten­tion.

There’s the adult ver­sion – you pay them lit­tle at­ten­tion - and for sig­nif­i­cant num­bers like 30 or 40, you try to com­pletely ig­nore them al­to­gether.

And fi­nally, there’s the se­nior birth­day – you’re not that both­ered, the num­ber means noth­ing . . . but you’re still hell of a glad to have clocked up an­other one!

For my 50th – I went on a pub crawl along 50th Street in midtown Man­hat­tan.

A bar­man set up a drink and told me “The only down side of fifty is that you fi­nally re­alise there are more birth­days be­hind you than ahead of you!”

I’ve re­called his cheery words every birth­day since.

And every year - I’m more de­ter­mined to prove him wrong!

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