File under "birthday comma happy"

Six months from today will find us in the year 2008, no doubt tooling around with jet packs and flying cars. We are at the year's spongy midsection, where it has begun to show its love handles.

On this date in 1858, Darwin read his paper on evolution to the Linnean Society. Four years later, the battle of Gettysburg began. One hundred and one years later, both the zip code and "She Loves You" were rolled out to the public. Not too many years later, the Walkman was introduced on this day. And somewhere in there I was born, on this date in 1973. Don't even get me started on "Canada Day" which has plagued my birthday on calendars for as long as I can remember.

Thirty-four. I kind of miss the years where there always seemed to be some sort of significance an impending birthday. In the teenage years, each new number seemed to bestow some new duty or privilege, exciting things like driving and voting and finally being allowed to see all the "R"-rated films I'd been watching all along.

In America, at least, once they allow you to drink (at age 21) this is pretty much over. I think at 25 is when most car companies will rent to you, but that's about it for magical powers bestowed by virtue of age until 59 and a half, when the retirement fund I do not have can be drawn from without penalty. Demographically speaking, I suppose being in the final year of the 18-34s holds some sort of significance. Soon I will be less valuable to marketers.

It was this day last year that I made the decision to write. Will I epiphanate epiphanize reach some sort of big decision this year as well? I kind of doubt it. The decision to seriously try to write was a pretty big step down a path I don't see myself leaving anytime soon. I'll probably take stock at some point today, see where my first year of writing has led me, aside from the obvious boon of having this blog, and all the lovely friends I've made here.

I share my birthday with Willie Dixon and William Strunk; with Dan Aykroyd, Debbie Harry and Princess Diana. I very nearly share it with my good friend Ian as well, who was born about 12 hours after I was, and who will always (ALWAYS!) be younger than me, and should never forget that I am the elder and deserving of reverence.

Anyway, yeah, it's my birthday. Don't have anything big planned to mark the date. I'll probably just check to see if my driver's license has expired and call it a day.