The Birthday Boy


Today I turn 39 years old. One more to 40. That’s less frightening than I thought it would be, but we’ll revisit the scene next year and see if I still feel the same way. (I reserve the right to have a nervous breakdown at a moment’s notice.) As already mentioned, I will be spending the weekend in New York, taking in the last performance of ‘Bullets Over Broadway’, brunching at Tavern on the Green, and having a fancy birthday dinner at The NoMad. Just me and my husband.

That stays true to my traditional route of keeping birthdays relatively small. I was never one for big parties to commemorate the day, preferring smaller gatherings and destinations off the beaten path (hello Beaversprite). Some years it was only me and Suzie and my family. To this day, I tend to keep to the same format, quietly going about the day as if nothing much was different. (Some years I may have kept things too quiet; the few times I worked on my birthday I found myself rather depressed as I walked downtown Albany alone on my lunch hour. After that I would take the day off, even if I kept it simple.)

This year is an out-of-town year, like when we went to Provincetown in 2012. And while I’ve never been the biggest fan of New York, I’m sure there are ways they can show the birthday boy a good time. Tom Ford’s flagship store on Madison Avenue for example…

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