Ode to the Personal Holiday
The end of November is full of birthdays. My father, several friends, and myself were all born in November. It is strange to think that there are people out there who don’t even know how old they are. How do people in these societies know who to sell cigarettes to? What do they use for computer passwords?
For those of us that are fortunate to live in a culture that values things like logistics and memory, a birthday is like a personal holiday. Everyone gets one. When you say, “I splurged on dinner, but it was my birthday,” or, “I got super wasted, but it was my birthday,” you might get some disapproving glances from some, but everyone will understand.
If your birthday falls on a weekend, a regular holiday, or you are unemployed, then it is a day when you can do whatever you…
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