A Quarter Century Strong

Twenty five years ago today, I arrived fresh from my mother's womb fresh faced and gooey. That's right this is the twenty fifth anniversary of that most momentous day in human history: my birth (although, since I arrived via C-section I can lay claim - like Macbeth - to being of no woman born. Also, like Macbeth I am easily controlled by women and driven by an unquenchable lust for power and paranoia, but I digress). Today, oh happy reader, is my birthday.

I have now been on this planet for twenty five years. This sounds like a long time. Lord knows that when I was a child twenty five years would seem like an eternity to live. I thought - very foolishly - that by this point I would be and feel like a successful, well-adjusted adult, but I would still be living with my parents. My view of growing up was truly warped by television - I mean, how long did those Huxtable kids live with poor Cliff? The truth of being twenty five - at least for me - finds me to be a still emerging, adjusting child. Albeit a child who can now rent a car without paying an exorbitant premium.

I know that birthdays are often a time for self reflection and evaluation. It is a time to measure your progress over the past year and project your life course into the future. However, I find self examination eludes me, mainly because I am very shallow and deep thought hurts my head. Moreover, I do not care to stress over the past years, my triumphs and my failures. Just let it be said that being 25 is a lot like being 24 which was a lot like being 23 right on down the line to 5 being a lot like being 4. Of course, using logic this would mean that being 25 is a lot like being 4 which is of course pure lunacy. I know infinitely more dirty jokes now than I did at 4. I guess I am capable of some rudimentary self analysis.

So, what - you might ask - is my purpose in writing this silly little post if not reflection? The answer is quite obvious. Today is my birthday, and this is just a shameless little plug for presents. Bring'em on. Really, it's the only way to shut me up.

Shalom