Come play with me today, this is my middle-aged birthday wish. I would climb a towering, ancient Oak, seeking out a well-chosen jagged limb, one that would appear thick enough, for my middle-aged behind. And yes, my legs would tremble, my palms would sweat – BUT – I’d be careful, as I crept, no, scooted horsey style, along, a barnacled branch. Below, my golden furred, doggie friend – Pink, would hide under her paws, and grumble, and wonder, if I should take a tumble that there would be trouble, because she wanted to be fed.
I would remember too, “Don’t look down … CRAP! I looked down.” As I would stare down at death – BUT – I’d suck in a deep breath as I’d grappled over the wobbly, bouncy branch. I would carelessly swing upside down, APE style as translucent sweat drops would rain down toward the innocent unforgiving ground, off my pasty white forehead.
I’d yell, “Hey kids – LOOK, NO HANDS!”
“Dude, be careful, you’re like old,” one might say back. They’d all shrug collectively, shake their heads in pity, as they petted Pink on the head, just before they strolled away from my middle-aged dare devilish display, I suspected they left to play reality video games inside.
Undaunted, I would run back home, with a relieved, inward and outward, Pinky love, in dangled doggie-tow. There I would devour a huge bowl of brown beans; Pink would sniff at them, then backup and groan. Then I would gestate for an hour or so, maybe more, some people’s colons work slower, you know. But eventually, I’d FART! An audacious, odorous series of farts, and shake my clenched fists in the air, I’d SCREAM… “YES! YES I CAN!!!” And to my amazement, I’d point to the far corner of the garage, “Look, Pink, I exterminated a cockroach, without even using my jazz hands!”
Pink would sniff at my posterior, her brown eyes would start to drip tears, as she wobbled away, to seek clear, clean fresh air. Then, AS IF I’M SKIPPING SCHOOL, (Whisper this part with me …)
I’d prance naked about our empty house, as if a land locked Manatee spouse. And I would wiggle, giggle, swivel, and, scare away a trapped fly who had accidentally buzzed accidentally inside as my odorous scent would cause it to cease to fly.
After, I’d charge upstairs and investigate our bathroom closets, and gaze at the wonderment, at all her smelly stuff? EUREKA! I’d borrow (steal) some of my wife’s, flowery scented bathtub soaps. It is a large inventory, she would never notice. I would, yes, I really would, fill the tub to the brim, with wispy, frothy, sudsy clouds, and ignite one of her expensive candles. Why you ask? Just because I could! And I would, I really, really, really would, because I could!
My doggie friend Pink, would haunch back and stare over at me, and wonder what had happened to me, curious if she could survive all day … alone with, just middle-aged me. Ha! “Be not afraid canine friend!”
I’d Immerse myself like an Alligator, within a luxurious, steamy, nuclear reactor hot, hot-water wasting bath. And then, POP a cork, and guzzle down a bottle … of my wife’s favorite Champagne. From the bottle, she’d had stashed. “What better occasion, than my birthday?” Then harkin’ back to our honeymoon, as tiny, fragrant, sparkled bubbles bloomed from within one of our fancy, flooted lead crystal glasses. And just about then, I would imagine, my hands-free brown bean trick would come full-circle as my personal bubbly versions would escape! From the crack of my bulbous … middle-aged southern – exit only please- address! YES! And then I’d CACKLE like I’m a thirteen year-old boy, as I’d hop out of my aquatic hole, dripping wet, basking in my naked glory! Then wrap a towel around my head, New Delhi style, Because – TODAY! – is my one day. The day, I can try to act, COOL. I’d sing an off-key Jimmy B tune, In a loud annoying voice, which prompted Pink, to go hide in his dark den, unsure what had happened to the – HIM.
I would then guzzle several pints more of my favorite brew, BELCH and BURP as if a Bulbous Bullfrog, asleep on the bottom of a pale green algae infested pond. And then I’d, FART again, and then FART to the extreme. And scream, “YES! SEE, I DID IT AGAIN! FARTS TO THE WIND!”
Pink would stare up at me from within the safety of her dark den, thinking, “Woof, you won’t trick me again, woof!”
Then, I would SCAMPER into the cold backyard, whip out my sleeping, flaccid forgotten friend, as I’d spell my name, using an age old artistic medium, streaming in a sort of cursive with a moist, day-glow sputtering flow. I would create instant environmental artistic hazard, after, I’d step back to admire the letters I wrote. Then Pink would stare up at me, sniff at my work, and then lift her hind leg, to add what she thought.
And then life would get BETTER! I’d DEVOUR a thick, juicy (Medium rare – “thank you”), artery-clogging steak, slide a few morsels over to Pink, who had pawed a thank you at my leg. I’d swig another pint of my favorite brew, chomp down a HUGE baked potato, slathered in butter and sour cream, and any other evil, forbidden, cholesterol inducing goodness I could find!!
But from within the unguarded refrigerator, I’d SNEER, as I would instantly flick away, noisy neighbor steamed vegetables, perched inside a cold plastic container. They would STARE at me, acting all ‘health-a-lee’ superior, But, “Nay,” I would say, “NAY, NOT TODAY!”
“Who do they think they are?” I’d stare down to ask Pink. And just for meanness, I’d chuckle, and threaten to feed them to my golden haired co-conspirator, “Woof! Woof!” “Indeed, Pink, indeed,” I’d say as I slammed closed the refrigerator door.
And thanks to the vacuum hose my Doctor fished up my behind, my impromptu feast, slithered down my overworked, cancer free colon, and the goodness disappeared into my vast bowel of nothingness. I would then enjoy a reflective nap with my fur covered friend, as I’d need energy for what comes next, from off my most precious, unedited, dreamed up menu, of, HOPED for birthday treats and wishes.
(So carry along with us, in Mister Elmer J. Fudd esquire, speak … seriously, come along)
Whisp-pa, wit me now, I’d berry, coolie, care-foolie, twack down my ‘1-and-only, ba-ride’, because I’m not from You-taw, (ha, ha, ha, ha … ) because I only hab, dis temporary stiff mainsail, from a limited time offer, thanks to a super-secret pill box with a four-hour warranty window. (Otherwise, I’d have to go to the hos-spital … because Mister Happiness would not go down.)
I’d woe-mantic-ali, give her a single wed-wove, I’d kiss her hand, I’d whis-purr in her ear,”I wuv you – my dear,” AND THEN! After I locked away my golden fur covered friend inside her den, so she would not be traumatized by what happened next, we would wrestle naked until we scrambled our ba-rains. (Let me tell you, THE BEST … almost, but not quite – 2 minutes of the day!)
BUT Alas, that is what I would DO … IF, it were MY birthday, today. BUT I’M NOT YOU!
So, today might be YOUR birthday, today, my faceless middle-aged friends. I care not your skin pigmentation, or who you have affection for, or, the faith you adore.
My simple hope for you, on your birthday, is GO OUTSIDE, AND SEEK YOUR INNER CHILD! MISBEHAVE! DO SOMETHING CRAZY or GO WILD, DO WHATEVER YOUR HEART CRAVES, JUST PROMISE ME, BE BRAVE! Because … oh well, truth be told. It can all end, a snap of my fingers, the blink of a child’s eyes, a nano second being unaware, or, simply, being genetically unlucky. BUT! I would not despair, because, It’s not MY birthday today, so, I’ll just go to work, and tonight I’ll sit in a dark room, and I’ll pet my needy golden-haired friend, Pink. And I’ll be quiet, just do as I’m told, and try to behave. And try not to get caught releasing a silent, foggy fart, BUT LATER TONIGHT, AS I CLOSE MY EYES, I’LL DREAM, I’LL WHISPER IN MY MIND, YES, YES I CAN!
You see, I have a birthday, too, the one day, every year, until I disappear, the one day, MY day, to be ME! The day I can act weirder than usual, and set the wacky – free. So, if it’s your day, today, please, please, go play! Because time and health are not for sale, and you will never get a moment back. If we all die with a smile on our faces, I know we all fought to the last!
NS
Leave a Reply