Ten years ago I was facing what seemed then the rather grim prospect of turning 50. 50?! That seemed like a gigantic number when I was 49. How had I gotten to be so old? Surely there was a mistake! Was I done? Was my race run? Was I spent and washed out, through, finished, caput?
The prospect was daunting and depressing. Making matters worse, ten years ago I found myself without a “partner” (of any shape or form), so I was going to have to go it alone. Yet I knew if I were to celebrate such an auspicious birthday alone in my apartment in my soiled underwear that I would become very depressed indeed. And so without a significant other to do it for me, I threw a surprise birthday party for myself. Well, guess what?! It turned out to be one of the best nights of my life. What I can remember of it.
Well, here we are, ten years later, and other than the enormity of the number (WHICH WE SHALL NOT NAME) nothing much has changed. Still getting older, some new scars and aches and pains accumulated in the last decade, still alone in the world, still afraid of ringing in the next decade all alone in my underwear, so now is the time to invite you to a surprise birthday party for myself.
This year’s (decade’s) extravaganza will take place on Saturday, September 24 which will be in fact my 60th birthday. (There, I said the number, not so bad.) Guests are asked to assemble and congregate and muster and comingle around 5:00 PM. The birthday boy himself is scheduled to arrive around 6:00 PM, with the idea that as I enter, guests will jump out from their hiding places and scream “Surprise!” and give me a near heart attack in the manner of surprise parties from time immemorial.
The location for this great event is my new local in the beltline, The Blind Monk Pub, which is located at 918 12th Ave SW, across from the Board of Ed building and Barb Scott Park. If you can’t be there before 6, no worries, come anytime, it would be nice to see you.
Presents. This is a big concern. You might be thinking to yourself, Eugene hardly seems like the type to want a present. In this, you would be wrong. Of course I want a present. How could you even think of showing up without something for me? Come on, get with the program, it’s my freaking birthday. (Just kidding, kind of.)
The last time we did this is was at the old Auburn Saloon. I told Jesse (the owner) that there might be 100 people there, or it might just be him and me playing cribbage. Mercifully we had a great turn out and I was able to catch up a lot of old friends.
This year, I’ve told Spyder at the Blind Monk the same thing. Of course, there’s no way of knowing numbers because it’s a surprise party. But I hope you will come by and hoist a drink with me.
Remember, if you see me between now and then, don’t mention the party to me. It’s supposed to be a surprise!
Thanks for reading.