A Very Merry Un-Birthday

That’s what I wish I was having.  I wish that I would have no more real birthdays.  It’s a good thing that I have never mentioned in my blog, the fact that I’m old, and that I’ve never posted “Remember When” stories, never commented on the slow, gradual reduction in abilities, never admitted that I’ve got Alzheimer’s, because I forgot that I’ve done all of the above.

Today I turned 69.  What an ugly number!  If only I could re-enact the Benny Hill skit where he floats through the pub, crooning 21 today, 21 today.  It was the number of beers he had scammed people out of.  I don’t think I ever drank 21 beers in one day, but I’d like to be young enough again, to try.

Ven ve get older, ve get schmarter.  Vell, zome of us does.  If I was all that smart, I wouldn’t have got this old.  Where in Hell did the time go?  I’ve got memories for all the intervening years, but it seems like only yesterday I was 21.

I knew that I had officially passed into old fartitude back in February, when I found that I couldn’t sleep without my socks on.  Even in June, when we threw the blanket off the bed, I still needed my socks.  My normally low blood pressure and slow heartbeat just doesn’t pump enough blood to the extremities any more.  How embarrassing.  What’s next?  Will I have to have BrainRants make up another woobie, for me?

I’m actually happy to have a day that’s all about me; I just don’t need a birthday cake with so many candles, that it can be seen from orbit!  At least I live in green, moist Southern Ontario.  If I lived where Rants is from, they’d be blaming me for the wildfires.

I’ve collected things during my life, car medallions, airplane medallions, book series, coins.  I’ve always been thrilled to get a complete set, but I’m not thrilled to have collected a set of reminders of how long ago some of those things occurred.

As usual, I’ve started this draft long enough ahead of the actual day to give me plenty of time to really work up a good case of “Sorry For Me.”  I’m sure the family will fête me into happiness.  I’ll get to choose a treasured meal menu, and even if the inevitable presents are inexpensive, as I insist, I will have the family fawning over me.

Back in the spring, H. E. Ellis obtained some sensitive, biographical data about me by using the devious ploy of asking nicely.  Like the typical gullible, egotistic male, I gave it to the first pretty female who asked, hoping for a little attention.  She threatened to use it to expose me to the world on this day, unless I sent her a fifty-gallon drum of Canadian Maple Syrup.  Since I’m so poor I can’t even afford to pay attention, that didn’t happen.

She did mention me a while ago, when she told about me adopting Eddy the dog.  Since then, she’s been so busy and important, that she hasn’t even had enough time to push her mother in front of an oncoming bus on the information blog-highway.  I’ll have to check early.  If she’s actually thrown me a birthday party, I need to bring along the big bowl of homemade cinnamon applesauce we just completed, Yum, Yum!!

White Lady In The Hood is another lovely lady who has promised to massage my birthday ego, showing off her literary prowess by composing a satirical poem about my aged-ness and antique-itude.  My poetic ability stops right after, “The Moon is Lune.  I’ll see you soon.”  We should all go over there to see what she’s created.  I’ll bring along the applesauce.  Of all the things that have been done to me over the years, some of them legal, I’ve been satyrised, but never satirized.  I hope it feels good.  Do I need to bring along the K-Y too?

I’d be proud to occupy the position of Senior Statesman or Wise, Intelligent Elder Advisor, but I just checked my résumé, and don’t seem to find those abilities listed.  To identify my age with the Arabic numerals 69 is bad enough.  At least I don’t have to use the Roman-numeral letters.  I’m sure that combination spells out some horrible word.

People tell me, “You’re not getting older.  You’re getting better.”  I believe I reached the acme of my abilities some time back.  Now, all I’m getting better at, is getting older.  If you see a big cloud of blue funk hovering around, don’t worry, it’s just me.  It’ll dissipate in a couple of days, and I’ll be back, posting some juvenile collection of humor which proves my real mental age.

The sun officially went over my personal yardarm at about 2:00 AM this morning.  Lying in bed, crying about the inevitable, only gets tears in my ears.  Thanks for coming to my pity party, but it’s time to end all this morbid, morose moping.  Let’s get a Birthday Par-Tay underway.  Envelopes with worshipful cash, gratefully accepted.  Vive L’old grump!

At least next year’s 70 seems like a neater, rounder number.  Bah!  I’m still not looking forward to it.

32 thoughts on “A Very Merry Un-Birthday

  1. 1jaded1 says:

    Happy birthday, you. So glad to have met you. Many more.


  2. H.E. ELLIS says:

    Ha! Ha! Beat you to it! Happy Birthday!!!


  3. BrainRants says:

    Be as ranty as you wish to today because you earned it, Archon. Thanks for the plug!


  4. bulldog says:

    Well a very happy old birthday to you… being just a little behind you, I’ve reached that age where farting in bed is a risk, dependent on what I’ve eaten during the day.. Seeing a pretty girl in the mall now is just a fleeting glance as they pass, as unlike the dog it’s not what you’re gonna do with her if you catch her, it’s a case of knowing you can’t walk fast enough to catch her… popped over here after reading White Lady in the hoods poem about you… have a good day and may there be many many more…


    • Archon's Den says:

      Welcome to my particular insanity BD, feel free to return any time. There’s some Fosters in the icebox. I’d love to sit and talk old-man problems with you, but I need a nap. It’s been a big day, and the sun’s not even up. 😆


  5. whiteladyinthehood says:

    NO pity parties for you today, Archon! You made me think of this line from a country song:
    “Now the truth about a mirror, is that a damned old mirror, don’t always tell the whole truth-
    It doesn’t show what’s deep inside or read between the lines
    and is really no reflection of my youth…”


    • Archon's Den says:

      Now, thanks to your marvelous poem, I see myself astride a fine steed, brandishing a proud sword….and a by-law officer saying, “If you don’t scoop that stuff up, I’m givin’ you a ticket.” 😆


  6. El Guapo says:

    Senior Statesman or Wise, Intelligent Elder Advisor isn’t something you get on your resume, its something bestowed on you by those who know you. And it looks like you’ve earned both those mantles from the sphere.
    You and I pass each other -often enough on other sites, and it’s always a pleasure to see your comments wherever I go.

    Happy birthday, Archon! And now you can use your senior position to tell people to do stuff for you!


    • Archon's Den says:

      AFrankAngle would say, “Welcome first-time commenter.”
      I say, thanx for stopping by, Guap. Feel free to do so any time. I’d love to see the occasional Like, or comment from you.
      Thank you also for the birthday wishes, but that telling people what to do hasn’t worked out well. The wife is a travel agent, she tells me where to go. 😉


  7. Michelle says:

    Happy Birthday!! I just had my 44th birthday this month, and I’m right there with you on not knowing where the time went. And on barely remembering most of it – but not for good reasons. 😉


    • Archon's Den says:

      So, there I was, standing in the, We’re All Getting Older, line, feeling like John Wayne in “Rooster Cogburn.” “I’ve got socks as old as you honey.” 😉
      Poor Michelle! That not remembering thing can be a real pain. I go in, to see my doctor, and he says, “What’s wrong with you?” “I don’t know. The wife wrote a list. I think it’s here somewhere.” 😀


      • Michelle says:


        Yeah, it’s getting where I’m carding people for cigarettes and alcohol at work who were born after I graduated high school. But I still have the older crowd telling me I’m still a baby yet, so I eat that up with a spoon!

        I hope your birthday is a great day!


  8. Sightsnbytes says:

    Happy Birthday old fart. I recently turned half a century myself, so I know exactly how you feel. you are only as old as you feel, so sometimes I feel 80 and not 50…but what is the sense to complain? Nobody listens. Enjoy your special day! Keep writing those interesting stories….


    • Archon's Den says:

      Yes!! I’m sorry. I was so busy baking that cake for Heellis to decorate, I forgot. Happy belated birthday, the 18th, wasn’t it? The 15th? the 11th?? Pat, I’d like to buy a clue. The enjoying is being done, even as you read this, and I’ve still got a few lies stories in me. 🙂


      • Sightsnbytes says:

        it was the 17th, but if you ask my mom, it could have been the 16th. Apparently I gave her over 15 hours of labour, and she wasn’t sure exactly what day I decided to arrive. She did get me back though. She named me Thaddeus (little known secret)….she got me good


      • Archon's Den says:

        My Mom was born on three different days. The family Bible said the 28th of June, her Baptismal Certificate said the 29th, and her Birth Certificate listed the 30th.


  9. coastalcrone says:

    Happy birthday to you a day late. I found your blog via White Lady in the Hood. I am not looking forward to 69 either.


    • Archon's Den says:

      Thanx for stopping by. I’d love for you to return from time to time. If you visit White Lady, just come through the back gate. We can have some sweet tea, or would you prefer a julep?
      69 definitely looks better through the rear-view mirror of nostalgia. 🙂


  10. benzeknees says:

    I’m sorry I missed your birthday! I’m behind in my reading again. Hope you had a great day – please send me a pint of homemade Cinnamon Applesauce.


    • Archon's Den says:

      I’m so far behind I almost missed my own birthday. I haven’t read any of your stuff for a week. Have to come out of hibernation.
      Can I trust CanPost to deliver applesauce? They’d either drop it or eat it. I’ll try emailing some out. 😕


      • benzeknees says:

        Not to worry about missing my stuff, it’s only been funnies anyway so time really doesn’t matter when you read them. I really wish we could trust CanPost, my mouth was watering for applesauce.


  11. Kayjai says:

    Happy Belated, Archonian One!! Hope you had a great day even though I missed the whole thing…ugh.


  12. Jim Wheeler says:

    Do not go gentle into that good night,
    Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
    Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
    Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
    Because their words had forked no lightning they
    Do not go gentle into that good night.

    Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
    Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
    Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

    Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
    And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
    Do not go gentle into that good night.

    Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
    Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
    Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

    And you, my father, there on the sad height,
    Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
    Do not go gentle into that good night.
    Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
    – Dylan Thomas


    • Archon's Den says:

      I’ve heard/read the punch line hundreds of times, but never bothered to pursue the entire piece. Thank you for a copy of the complete poem.

      I don’t know what I will do at the end. I am inwardly raging now at the waste, and wish I had the religious’ blind faith in existence after death. Both my parents seemingly just quietly accepted the inevitable.


      • Jim Wheeler says:

        Me too. My father and all his line were pragmatic, but my mother got religion near the end. It was impossible to tell if it really helped.


        To life-a fatal, hereditary disease

        Life consists not in holding good cards, but in playing those you hold well

        “May you live all the days of your life.” -Jonathan Swift

        Let us wipe out the past, trust in the future, and rejoice in the glorious Now.

        “Life is a jest, and all things show it
        I thought so once, but now I know it.” -John Gay

        Every day should be passed as though it were our last

        Let us eat and drink; for tomorrow we shall die. –Isaiah

        Here’s to love, life, and liberty: Love pure, Life long, Liberty boundless

        To life. The first half is ruined by our parents and the second half by our children

        Toasts to a Long Life

        May the Lord love us but not call us too soon

        May you enter heaven late

        Long life to you and may you die in your bed.

        May you live to be a hundred-and decide the rest for yourself

        May you die in bed at age ninety-five shot by the jealous husband of a teenage wife

        Till a hundred and twenty



  13. […] year, I got accolades from acolytes. I got a party, and partiers, and a poem.  I got followers, fun and frivolity.  I got drunks on my lawn, and […]


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