According to Hofmann: Happy Birth Date!
I recently started to think a lot about the concept of birthdays because people on my Facebook page just insisted that I was going through one.
ItĢƵ not that I don’t know the point of a birthday–itĢƵ to document your age, even though more and more, people say itĢƵ only how old you feel that counts. Of course, people start saying that sort of stuff when they become old and have decided to jog every now and then. So, in the context of that notion, I “feel” my age to be 18 years…after dying in a horrible fall off a long cliff followed by an explosion.
But let us get back to birthdays and the celebrations that come with it…for some reason.
It certainly seems like the first few birthdays of a childĢƵ life are more of milestones for the mother as a way to honor her for carrying around a bun in her oven for nine months (until the bun totally destroys the oven in its grand escape).
“Mark, you idiot, if thatĢƵ true, then why do people give presents to the children for those first few birthdays?”
Well, aggressive voice in my head, who says those presents aren’t actually for the parents?
Think about the birthday parties you’ve attended for children and whenever the parent opens a gift. They say, “Now I don’t have to buy extra clothes!” or “This toy will distract this little demon long enough for me to appreciate the miracle of birth control!” or “Thank you for the tequila, Mark!”
From there, itĢƵ a gradual transition on a sliding scale from birthday presents being exclusively for parents, to presents being exclusively for the kids. That normally happens around their 11th or 12th birthdays.
The age where the child stops receiving birthday presents for the rest of their lives should be 13, but the tradition of birthday parties and birthday presents are so ingrained in a childĢƵ mind that cutting them off cold turkey would cause the collapse of society within a month.
Allow me to take a quick timeout to point out that the word “birthday” itself is inaccurate.
Your birthday is just that one day out of your whole life.
What you annually celebrate is your birth date.
So why do we embrace such blind, drooling ignorance? The culprit is the same reason we celebrate holidays like National Look Alike Day, and thatĢƵ the greeting card companies.
You see, back in the day, the greeting card companies found they can save money on ink by printing “Happy Birthday” on cards instead of “Happy Birth Date!” because “birth date” has nine letters and “birthday” only has eight letters.
It doesn’t seem like much, but birthday cards are easily their biggest and most consistent seller throughout the year, so once you factor in every person in just the United States getting on average three birthday cards a year along with the volatile price of ink, then omitting that one letter saves the greeting card companies roughly $42 billion on ink every year.
Presents, parties and birth-date cards aside, itĢƵ customary to wish people happy birthday if you know itĢƵ their birthday, if you are informed itĢƵ their birthday or if you hack into their computer and come across their personal information and then you happen to run into them on the street or see them at your court proceeding on their birthday.
Whenever I’m required to wish somebody a happy birthday, I can’t help but to wonder why I’m congratulating them.
I mean, am I happy they managed to survive the birthing process? Well, seven out of 10 times, yes, but unless they’re 2 or 3 years old, the shimmer and shine has pretty much faded from that medal of honor.
What really rubs me the wrong way, like petting a hedgehog, are the folks who insist on telling you itĢƵ their birthday.
ItĢƵ fine if the person is asked when their birthday is or if it comes up naturally in a conversation, but those who make it their mission to proclaim their birthday to everyone including total strangers should have no mercy.
“Hi, Dan.”
“Hi. TodayĢƵ my birthday.”
“Man, Dan, I wish I could gift wrap a punch in the face for you.”
“But are you going to wish me a happy birthday?”
Now, unless the person is either extremely old or has struggled with serious health problems, even feeling the need to tell them happy birthday never really sat well for me. Congratulating them on surviving another year really doesn’t seem earned to me.
However, I tolerate it and play along because a civilized society is a fragile thing, and I don’t want to be the non-compliant anarchist to topple that.
We’re going to have enough troubles when people stop buying presents for kids on their 13th birthdays.
According to Hofmann is written by staff reporter Mark Hofmann of Rostraver Township. He co-hosts the “Locally Yours” radio show on WMBS 590 AM every Friday. His book, “Stupid Brain,” is available on Amazon.com.