I believe that the older one gets, the more dignified one must be. I mean, clearly one should aspire to be more like this:
than this (You really need to only watch the first 24 seconds of the following clip to get what I'm talking about...):
Now as it just so happens, we are currently wrapping up Heather's Birth
dayweek*. Yes, last Tuesday, I officially entered the End of My Late Thirties by turning 39. Clearly, I needed to muster up all the dignity I could, now that my age has inexorably advanced another year. Fortunately, my family was ready and willing to pitch in and aid me in my quest to age with dignity.
First, I received a lovely, talking/musical birthday card specially selected for me by my darling daughter.......
(It talks - in Wookiee - and then plays the Star Wars theme. Très raffiné, non?)
Then, when opening my birthday present from Kiddo and Hubby with suitable decorum, I sliced a small chunk out of my thumb on the corner of the box. (Us elderly folk have thinner skin, you know. We're quite delicate. It wasn't that I was shrieking with glee as I tore into the packaging of my present, I swear. That would not have been dignified in the least.) Kiddo came to my rescue by providing this first aid:
(Confession: The above photo was a Dramatic Reenactment, as I've since recovered from my injury and am no longer in need of a stylish and dignified bandage for my thumb.)
I'm fairly certain I saw a similar bandage on the Queen of England's thumb in a photo a few months back...
Oh, and the present I got for my birthday? Rock Band 3 - with keytar.
(Hubby, while taking the above picture: "You're not really going to take a picture to post on the internet of you in your jammies, are you?" Me: "Of course I am!" Cinéma vérité - doesn't get any more dignified than that! Okay, maybe I should've opted for some soft focus vaseline-on-the-lens.... Also? That was my attempt to look both dignified and rock-n-roll! simultaneously.)
Now, I've been playing the piano since I was four years old. Four years old. That means that as of last Tuesday, when I hit my late thirties (okay, fine, my late-late thirties), I've been playing the piano for thirty-five years. I can read music. I can sightread music, even. I was sure I'd have the keytar locked down, is what I'm saying. Turns out? Not so much. I was only slightly more accurate playing the keytar parts than my cat would be. (Speaking of the cat........
.....she enjoys Cheesy Eddie's carrot birthday cake with cream cheese frosting as much as the rest of the family. But I digress...)
So, I tried to maintain my dignity whilst playing my new Rock Band 3 keytar, but I may have slipped with a colorful phrase or twelve while failing repeatedly to play the dang notes. That is neither here nor there, however.
For dinner, I chose to go to a local Japanese restaurant for some teppanyaki deliciousness.
True, the restaurant now occupies a building that was formerly a Hooters, then a Cheerleaders USA establishment, but it has been completely redone and reeks of classiness and elegance. They don't even serve any drinks inside giant Buddha statues, for Pete's sake. Being a teppanyaki style restaurant, the chef comes out and cooks the food right in front of you. This enables the patrons to take part in the preparation of the meal, mainly by means of catching rice balls in their mouths which are flung at them by the chef.
Now some people
may not look terribly dignified while doing this...
(see how Hubby is gloating? He was the only one at our table to succeed in actually catching the rice ball, rather than getting plonked in the face with a rice ball.)
Dignified all the way, baby. Jackie O couldn't have done it better.
Once we got home from our dinner (we were the only diners in the teppanyaki section, what with the major snow event occurring outside ((that I preferred to think of as "Mother Nature throwing confetti in honor of my big day")) and all), Hubby and Kiddo presented me with my Cheesy Eddie's carrot birthday cake, politely lit with just 4 candles instead of ablaze with 39. (We more senior types can be lacking in proper lung capacity to blow out such a blaze, after all.)
This is how you blow out birthday candles with dignity:
I hope that you have learned a little something about growing old with grace and aging with dignity. You're welcome.
* I long ago decided that an event as momentous as my birthday couldn't truly be contained in just one day. Hence, Heather's BirthWEEK. I celebrate it as often and heartily as possible. In the past seven days, I have had three birthday lunches, one birthday brunch, one birthday coffee and two birthday dinners (well, one was a combo birthday-Christmas dinner, but such is the lot of the mid-late December baby). Also, my Facebook wall was flooded with birthday wishes, which I adored receiving. Seriously, I felt all Sally Field - "You like me! Right now, you like me!" It just added to the awesomeness of my day. Then even more messages came in over the course of the rest of my birthweek, which I'd gladly stretch out right up until Christmas, but remaining dignified really doesn't permit me to do. Until next year... My sincerest, most heartfelt thanks to all my family and friends who helped me celebrate this year. You're all fantabulous!!!