49

This past Saturday was my 49th birthday. Yep, nearly half a century, still doing okay, drawing breath and so forth. It was, overall, a good day.

I haven't written much lately, not for publication, because my life went down a black hole last year. Don't ask; those of you whom I want to know specifics, already know (read enough between the lines that follow and you'll get the gist). No one is dead or sickly. Life goes on. But this was my first birthday since those dark times (which, admittedly, are not over, but they've progressed to a dark gray at least), and it worked out okay.

I really haven't cared much about my birthdays in years. I enjoyed rolling the tens digit at 30 and at 40, and I have appreciated what little fuss was made each year, but it is a day, it comes and it goes, and that's enough for me. But this was my first b-day since I started circling the drain, and I wasn't sure how it would go.... and really, I didn't care much, because this day had a far greater import. The daughter of a real-life friend, Alanna, was graduating college -- with a 4.0, summa cum laude! -- and I wanted this to be her day as much as I could make that happen. So I made arrangements for me and the kids to travel to the Dallas area in order to participate in the Alanna-fete.

Preparatory to the road trip, I made a post on a popular social media site -- yeah, that one, I'm not gonna name it -- thanking birthday well-wishers in advance, but I would be traveling. The wishes rolled in like usual, nearly one hundred eventually. I also got one HB by text, and while once upon a time this one salutation would have made my day, this year it was empty and meaningless. I ignored it.

I woke very early Saturday -- my sleep cycles are slowly normalizing, but I'm well used to how they go now -- and when the hour struck, headed out to take care of some errands. Car fueled, votes cast, a moderate amount of donuts procured for the sleeping offspring. Home again, one awoke, I continued doing things around the house, inflated the tires and so forth. Second one awoke, donuts were consumed, packing eventually got organized (one overnight is not difficult). And in here, somewhere, the dear kids gifted me a few birthday tokens -- handmade flavored fettuccine, a tiny stylized moose, a shadowboxed butterfly, some Pokemon cards, and roasted pecans. More than I expected (possibly more than I deserved), but all welcome -- my children as so wonderful. Finally I showered and threw our meager luggage into the car. We finally hit the road nearly an hour later than I'd wanted, but it was mostly my fault. One stop at Target, and we got underway with earnest continuity.

The miles clicked by, we made a brief stop in Temple for lunch, then continued northward. Anne called to check on our progress -- the afterparty had begun, were we near? Delays had added about 75 minutes to my estimate, but we would be there! ...Right after disconnecting, the highway turned into a parking lot, immediately after the I-35 East/West split. Dammit. After the crawl proceeded enough, I followed suit of other indignant drivers and made an illegal (but obviously popular) U-turn onto the oncoming side, followed immediately by taking I-35 West toward Fort Worth. More distance, more time, but at least we were moving!

I pulled over after a bit to fire up the GPS -- I hadn't planned on using it until almost to McKinney as I know the route by heart (but not the restaurant), but now I did need it; and with a splitter jack, I didn't have to sacrifice the Sirius-XM as well. We pushed on.

The kids, experienced lifelong travelers, we doing great. Carson played his Nintendo 3DS or scoured through his binder of Pokemon cards, while Amalie continued rocking out or writing on her iPad Mini. This level of technology is standard for them, and they thrive.

Finally the Dallas skyline appeared, and while traffic predictably got thick, it kept moving other than one bottleneck. Through that, and up the Distressway, and finally McKinney was on the radar. We got there, meals long since eaten, plates cleared, coffee being sipped -- but these wonderful people stayed, enjoying the event, and waiting for us. Waiting for me!

Almost as soon as we stepped in, Anne coaxed the well-coached crowd into serenading me with the traditional birthday song. I truly was touched; I hadn't even thought about my birthday since Austin.

Steve, Anne, Alanna, Leon, Ray, Barbara, and others unrecognized here -- thank you dearly. I love you so.

Rather than be introduced further, and the kids already seated and reviewing the menu, it was my turn to toast the guest of honor, Alanna. There is no recording (at least I hope not), but it went something like this.

"I've known Steve since our time at Rensselaer. In January 1983, I was sitting in a math class, waiting for it to begin, when a fellow student entered the room. I had seen him a few times around campus, we had run into each other once or twice down at WRPI, but this day elevated him to memorable for how he entered the classroom. He was festively dressed in a faux tuxedo tee shirt, suspenders -- and roller skates. Yes, he skated into the room and sat next to me. We hit it off.

"He graduated in December 1985 -- I stayed on, had unfinished business -- and moved to Nyack, where he lived downstairs from Barbara. And it turned out, Barbara had a daughter, Anne. The birds and the bees being what they are, they saw something in each other.

"Jump ahead to August 1986. The four of us -- me, Steve, Anne, and Barbara -- had a very nice dinner in Saratoga. Afterwards we walked the peaceful streets on a lovely evening. It turns out, and I don't think the term even existed then, I was Steve's wingman. I paired up with Barbara, we had pleasant conversation, but about fifty feet behind us, Steve and Anne were sparking something. And it's worked out well for them.

"In early 1990, Steve helped me move out of Connecticut, in a blizzard, for Austin. And in April that year, I proudly stood as his best man. I gave a poor toast that day, and hope today to do better.

"In 1991, a few weeks after Alanna was born, I headed up to the Dallas area to watch the Red Sox lose to the Rangers. Steve and Anne were always good about putting me up on these trips, and of course I wanted to see the baby. I rang the doorbell that night, and Steve opened the door with a tiny bundle asleep on his shoulder and the proudest smile I have ever seen upon the face of man. Now that I have children of my own, I better understand the feeling.

"Later that weekend, Alanna spat up on my shirt. I have never forgotten the spit towel since.

"And since that time, I have watched that baby grow into this accomplished young woman. I took her to baseball games, which was an enormous leap of faith for Anne, letting her little one out of her sight, and in my company no less! Alas, my nefarious plan to corrupt her into baseball fandom failed, and she has turned out utterly normal in that respect.

"Alanna is not my child, but she is part of my family, one that has welcomed me and mine for so long.

"Alanna, I have in small amounts watched you grow and do things so amazingly well, and I am so delighted that you invited me to be here today. You are the pride and joy of a loving family, one that is not bound only by blood.

"Alanna -- congratulations."

 That got me a round of applause, but I had one more sentiment to express:

"And if you don't cure cancer, it will be because you found an even cooler and more challenging world to conquer."

Cake was served -- there were three, it was quite the celebration -- and having ordered a late platter, I ate up, Amalie joining in. There were pictures to take and small conversations to have, but eventually the party broke up. The kids and I booked a hotel room and took a brief rest, but then it was back to S&A's home for the after-after-party.

It was a pleasant hang-out. I hadn't spent time at the house in too many years, and was awestruck by how the neighborhood trees had grown. I walked the kids to the nearby playscape -- it was rather undersized for them, but they exercised and drained some rambunctiousness, always a good thing. Back at the house -- the sun was setting at last -- I opened Steve's commemorative book of Wacky Packages artwork, parody product stickers I had grown up with. They're hilarious, several genuine gutbusters, and Amalie was gasping with laughter. Meanwhile, Steve was introducing Carson to Cosmic Wimpout, so his nefarious plan to corrupt my children was an immediate success.

Cosmic Wimpout is a fast-paced dice game -- there's a board but it's not necessary -- which can be learned in about two minutes. Points can accumulate quickly, but also evaporate in the tumble of a die. It is part of the game, it happens. Carson was trucking along with Steve, then I joined in, then Amalie sat as well. The gamer population ebbed and flowed, but we got in several games before darkness drove everyone else indoors (to keep on playing). I stayed to enjoy the gloaming and sip a beer. Others joined me, the conversation bubbled along, topics changing rapidly -- a joyous welter of words and interest. At last we all wandered in, where Amalie had just rolled an extremely rare supernova (five of a kind in one roll) and won the latest game. The party lingered and dwindled, and finally I packed out my tiny troupe and bivouaced at the Best Western. I was exhausted -- long day, long drive, birthday adrenaline finally waning. I set up the kids with the MacBook and a movie of their choice, opened a book, and passed out, arising around four in the morning. Gotta love a birthday weekend!

I showered and took a nap, woke yet again, and headed to the lobby for breakfast. The BW set a pretty good table -- the tiny cheese omelets were particularly good -- and I tucked in, satisfying myself for the drive ahead. Back at the room, the kids slowly revived, and I got them organized enough to also have breakfast. It was not very organized, but they both got things to eat, and somehow the lobby television got tuned to the latest Ice Age film, so we sat longer than we should have to enjoy it. I bailed out first, back to the room to take care of the packing (didn't take long), making sure we did not miss anything. I set the kids up with the obligatory Mother's Day call, and it was back on the road south at last.

As we approached Dallas proper, we all decided that a trip up Reunion Tower would be a good time, so we got off the highway, navigated, parked, and hiked (not far) to the foot of the Tower -- and learned that the observation deck had been closed for years. Who knew? So, a trick Steve larned me years ago, we popped into the neighboring Hyatt and rode the elevators to the top floor. The cool upshot to this is that they pass through the top of the atrium, and suddenly passengers are overlooking western Dallas. It was so cool that Carson requested, and received, a second go-around (it is pretty cool). Then we rode the lobby escalators, tossed some coins into a fountain for whatever luck might come, and wrapped up this last little adventure. Back to the trusty Honda, back on the highway, and on our way.

We had to refuel, and the GPS found us a Subway for lunch, at which time we called my mom (aka Grandma) as well. Then, more miles southward. Carson drifted off, Amalie continued to type. Just south of Waco, I pulled off for truckstop coffee and general stretching. Carson arose, and we all availed ourselves of the facilities. Traffic on I-35 got weird in places, compression nodes brought on by nothing obvious other than long stretches of ongoing construction (idle on a Sunday, nothing actually obstructive, just human reaction to confounding circumstances). We finally put that behind us, but delays added about half an hour to our ETA. We finally got to the northern outskirts of Austin, and amazingly traffic wasn't too bad; we reached the driveway just after 4:30 pm, ready to be out of the car.

We kicked back for an hour, finally arranged the Sunday exchange, and after I waved my departure to the progeny, my birthday weekend -- far better than I ever expected -- was at its end. Hello, 49. Bring it on. I can take it. (Gotta be better than 48 was.)

And, last bit -- one more congratulations to Alanna. Interstellar!