I hung one more year on the line
I should be depressed
My life's a mess
But I'm having a good time
Oo, I've been loving and loving and loving
I'm exhausted from loving so well
I should go to bed
But a voice in my head
Says "ah, what the hell"
Paul Simon – Have A Good Time
I love the world weary, insouciant tone of that song. It’s funny to think that he wrote it at the age of 33 or thereabouts. He was just a kid but not. By 33 he’d had the mega huge success of The Sounds of Silence, Bridge Over Troubled Waters (an aside: listen to this version. Richard Tee totally makes the piece) and more.
Then, at 44, he released Graceland which put him back at the top of everyone's MUST HAVE list. Jesus, what a brill album. Rhythm of the Saints too. By the time his next disc came out my hearing had flown south. I wonder if I've missed anything as spectacular as The Coast or Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes.But I’ve digressed all to hell and back. Yesterday it was Jen’s birthday and, yeah, she hung one more year on the line. She’s still a young stripling of a thing (but, unlike the tune's author, her life's not a mess and she's not depressed) BUT she’s also, officially, not a kid anymore.
Weird.
The Amazing Bob and I still refer to her and Oni as ‘the kids’ because...relatively speaking...THEY ARE!
This past Saturday Jen’s sister, Saint Erin of the Neck, threw her a surprise party. Oni and I were hard pressed to keep the secret but, YEA US, we did. Jen thought they were headed over to Erin’s to babysit sweet, young Patrick while she and PJ went out for din din. Jen thought that TAB and I were headed out for dinner with The Green Miles and Bethanie.
Poor Jen. Stuck changing poopy diapers while the rest of us would be out painting the town chartreuse.
Heh and snicker, snicker.
Then, last night -- her actual birthday, we had a smaller, just family, celebration. Indian food (huzzah!) and chocolate drizzle cake from Saint Fratelli’s.
Yes, the older you get, the longer your birthday celebrations get to go on. I’m this close to jubilating year ‘round.
