Recently, I celebrated my 65th birthday.
I'm not blogging about this in some cheesy, pathetic attempt to get all of you to send birthday greetings (jagetman@yahoo.com) or golf-related presents (102 Fern Way, Santa Rosa Beach, FL, 32459).
No, I only mention this because on the morning of my 65th birthday I played a round of golf and would have shot my age if I had been born in 1933!
I make a little joke.
So what does this birthday really mean to me? Clearly, the most important aspect of being 65 is that I am now enrolled in Medicare. As a matter of fact, because my birthday falls on the first of the month, my eligibility began a month before my actual birthday. Having proudly flashed my medicare card, I've already had a physical, blood tests, and prescription fill-ups.
I'm happy to report that all of this, the enrollment, the office visit, the prescriptions, went off without a hitch. No six-month wait, no death panels, no nuthin'. Three-month quantities of six different prescriptions came to a total of $28. Thanks to all of you out there who are still working and paying taxes in an effort to keep me alive.
You know who you are. Don't think I don't appreciate it.
So here, in no particular order, are some of my personal baby-booming highlights, reflections, and recollections, both grand and tiny, accrued during the 65 years I have spent on this planet. I apologize in advance to those of you who didn't have the good fortune to grow up in Boston, since many of these are Hub-centric.
...watching Big Brother Bob Emery toast President Eisenhower every day at noon on channel 4
...Boom-Boom-Boomtown
...Jackie Jensen refusing to fly
...Red Sox goofballs Gene Conley and Pumpsie Green trying to fly to Israel during a three-day bender
...at 14 or 15, purchasing Miles Davis' "Porgy and Bess" and listening to it almost non-stop for a week, definitely one of the "fork in the road" moments in my life
...seeing and, especially, hearing a child who was encased in an "iron lung" during the polio scare
...acting on the recommendation of friend and fellow Aardvark Martin Bickman and reading a Robert Heinlein novel; the rest as they say is history
...sitting nervously as a seventh grader in the Boston Latin School auditorium for the first time and being told that it was only a matter of time before my true ignorant nature would be discovered whereupon I would be exiled in shame to Boston English High School
...fooling those bastards for six years
...finding out I was funny
...passing my driving test on the first try despite being forced to make a three-point turn on a hill in a standard shift car, undoubtedly my finest driving moment
...hitchhiking to Montreal with fellow Aardvark Andrew Razin in search of that famous mythical creature, the "loose" Quebec Catholic girl; despite our determined efforts, we never were able to locate this fabulous but elusive being
...accompanied by Marvin "Knuck" Lehrer, attending a weekday matinee Celtics game in February, 1959 against the Minneapolis Lakers; final score: Celtics 173 Minneapolis 139; you could look it up
...witnessing both of my sons deliver beautiful, inspiring speeches and/or performances during Ada's wonderful memorial gathering
...learning geometry as a 10th grader under the tutelage of Mr. Salvucci, an excellent teacher and a nice man; I believe it was about this time that I decided I might not be a complete idiot
...seeing an undiscovered John Pizzarelli perform in a small club at the Montreal Jazz Festival and knowing that he would soon become something quite special
...similarly, seeing Stephane Grappelli, well over 80, barely able to walk on stage, magically become 60 years younger the second he started to play his jazz violin for an adoring jazz festival audience; it would be one of his last performances
...after several awkward phone calls, taking Ada Ernest on our first date, a double feature at the Morton Theater on Blue Hill Avenue; again, the rest is history
On the morning of my 65th birthday I was presented with a magnificent ice cream cake.I'm going to eat it even if it means I don't make it to my 70th.
Ain't life grand?
J
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