Every year I celebrate a birthday, like clockwork, year in, year out. And every one of these said years one digit gets added onto my age. This is the process of life, death and the other thing.

I’m going to be experiencing this miraculous phenomenon for the 39th time as of midnight tonight and it will run the course of twenty four hours, until 11:59:59pm tomorrow night. Such strange goings on but it always holds a little bit of magic… because it’s all about me.

That’s right. Moi. Who wouldn’t want a day dedicated to themselves, with people acknowledging you, buying you gifts, making you foods and desserts etc?

The first documented birthday was awarded to a dude named Adam. And that is a scientific fact.

As each one approaches (and from which there is no escape, besides suicide) I do a rough draft in my head of what I will do differently in the next year and how I will be a better man, not unlike the ritual of New Years Eve/Day. I’m constantly trying to ‘better myself’ and I often actually succeed in this endeavor. Obviously, quite often I don’t but it’s somewhat the thought that counts, am I wrong?

I like to wear a suit on my birthday each year as well. Actually, I enjoy wearing my birthday suit all year.

Bottom line is tomorrow is my birthday. And it will be my day or the highway.