You may have to remind me how this works. This blog is a year old. I'm not one big on birthdays, as anyone who knows me can aver. Hence the title of this post, co-opted from my brother-in-law - a term he coined as a loophole to observe my day. Here's the paradox: I'm not big on my birthday, but love to foist thoughtful gifts on others for their day.
There are personal reasons for this as you may expect, and the simple one I usually respond with is that birthdays are for the very young and the very old; when young since every day is new, when old since every day counts. There may be some faults in that logic, but also some sense. Besides, I'm more a fan of the Unbirthday concept, where every day is a chance to appreciate the presence of others.
Now this little online journal is growing up, learning to walk, and hopefully past the spit-up on your shoulder stage. It may make the occasional detour, but generally remains true to the route map. It is always looking for areas to improve service, based on the needs of the community.
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"It's my birthday, do I get a free ride?" He was sweaty and panting, having arrived at the stop a moment before on his bike.
"You still have birthdays?" I had to ask. He was neither very young nor very old. "Happy Birthday! No fare?"
"Not on my birthday!" Perhaps this was an annual expectation of his, like free dessert at the restaurant. "I'm 56."
"You're kidding, what's your secret?" He looked far younger than he claimed. "You must stay active."
That was the secret, and tends to be when I ask older folks for tips on staying strong as the years advance. An old landlord had a pithy saying along this line: "Never stop moving. The day you stop moving is the day they put you in the ground."
It needn't be strenuous, though often we push ourselves to know where our limit is. It needn't be fast - slow and steady wins the race. Never stop moving.
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