Did you know I’m turning 30 next week? I’m turning 30 next week. Even though my real age is a mere 20.3, I’ll be officially crossing the 3-0 barrier.
Judging from my peers, I assume it’s all down hill from here. (I kid, I kid).
I remember when I was a younger man-boy being really excited about my birthday; not because of the milestone, of course, but because of the presents. I would pore over the toy section of Sears catalog carefully, dog-earing all of the pertinent pages, and making a detailed list of possible gift items, including page numbers and short descriptions. One can never be too careful when it comes to the G.I. Joe Headquarters Command Center. [Note to self: when playing “army”, remember that no store-bought headquarters can be nearly as cool as one built from shoe boxes and/or couch pillows… unless it’s the Death Star Space Station).
Nowadays, of course, gifts are much less important. At this point, who really cares to get anything? It’s all just silly, really.