celebrate yourself, don’t wait for others to celebrate for you

I was told when I was born, my parents told me when my birthday was even though they didn’t celebrate it much.  Years later, when I needed to prove who I was I discovered that I was a day older than I’d been told, which means I’m a little bit Pisces as well as a lot of Ares.  If you believe in astrology, spirituality, and witchcraft that explains why I’m sometimes a messed up artist / engineer.

Growing up in a coal mining village, going to school at Bog Row Junior Mixed and Infants, living a ground down life in a dirt poor town, did not encourage me to look forward to anyone’s birthday.  Being the shy kid at birthday parties does not win medals and kisses.

In lots of ways I am an average guy.  I do not remember dates of things women find important; anniversaries, Valentines, Thanksgiving, Birthdays…..  (Actually St. Valentines Day is hard to forget, my florist reminds me.)  Ergo, in my diary I write down the dates of my friends’ birthdays, starting with a note the week before that says things like; Faye’s Birthday next week.  I am sorry if you women think that is crass, and that I need to be reminded to send flowers, but at least I try.

When I was working for a living my secretary would remind me of my birthday because it was expected that I would buy cakes for everyone in my office, and book a table in the good wine bar for a favoured few.  Champagne and nibbles, no work that afternoon, taxi to the train station for girls a little too drunk to walk.

I know, shallow and crass,  But shallow and crass was all I had.

Some say that when you are born describes who you are.  And that an Ares male is not to be trusted around women.  All I know is that I did not forget my friend’s birthday, no matter what she believes.

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

Happy Birthday Sweetheart