One of my grandkids had a birthday this week. With the ongoing pandemic, his party was a virtual event held live on Facebook. We watched as he opened way more presents than any kid needs.

On a couple of items, he shouted, "I always wanted one of these!" He's four. How long is "always?" I'm guessing at least a couple of weeks.

He was poised to announce each gift as it was unwrapped. A couple of them were plain cardboard boxes with the good stuff still to be discovered, but he'd shout out, "It's a box!" with the same glee as he did with the other items. I think next year, I'll just get him a box.

Birthdays with my kids were a big deal, but they were mostly private events with just the kids and parents and a few gifts to unwrap. Growing up, birthdays were less of an event.

There were six kids in my family, so parties and presents were scarce. Plus, I was born less than a week before Christmas, so there's that.

By the time my birthday came around, the presents were already stacking up underneath the tree, so I would lobby to open one early for my birthday. That didn't work.

We usually had a cake for the birthday kid, and the honoree might get to select the menu for the evening meal. We were allowed to have one party in our lifetime and had some say-so about which year that would be.

I had two parties. I guess I was special.

The first party was when I turned five. It didn't really count because I had no control over the guest list. Friends of my parents brought their family over for the evening. And we called that a party.

My other one was when I turned 11. I was allowed to invite my basketball team to a pizza party with the caveat that I had to invite the whole team whether I liked them or not.

My best friend wasn't on my team, so I got to invite him, too. That was the only exception.

I don't remember much from the party. What I've told you already is pretty much the extent of the memory. I'm sure it was fabulous.

I don't look forward to birthdays like I used to. Once you're over the hill, each turn of the calendar just reminds you that you're another year closer to the end. 

I probably should be more optimistic since I'm still pretty close to the top of the proverbial hill. I probably have at least 30 birthdays left. I'm aiming for 40.

My wife and I don't celebrate all the holidays as so many of them are overly commercialized. But she does always remember my birthday. 

I'm the easiest guy in the world to buy for, though, because I always want the same thing. A fine cigar and some time alone with it in my recliner sounds like heaven to me. It also sounds like "everyday."

Maybe I can't get as excited as Adam over a cardboard box, but it doesn't take much to make me happy. 

Contentment is a choice. Abraham Lincoln supposedly said, "Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."

I try to be happy everyday. As long as there's one stick left in my humidor, it's not hard to find happiness.

In fact, I think I'll celebrate now. Happy regular day to me.

© Copyright 2020 by David Porter who can be reached at porter@ramblinman.us. I have four cigars left; I can celebrate all night.