Birthday Surprises
Yes, today is my 75th birthday. By the Grace of God, family and luck, I’m still on the green side of the grass. More than anything, great friends, both old and new, make me look forward to each day with a sense of optimism. IF Alabama can beat Georgia tomorrow, I will feel even younger.
Thinking back on all my birthdays, a few stand out because of the surprises they brought. Here are a few that come to mind.
Anyone who knows me knows that my favorite genre of music is bluegrass. That love began in college when we would go see Three on a String in Birmingham when we went to Legion Field for Bama games. In 1977, I attended my first bluegrass festival, by myself at Horse Pens 40 near Steele, Alabama.
I slept under my old car in a sleeping bag.
I didn’t know how to play an instrument but noticed that it appeared the dumbest looking one in the group played the bass. That fit me like an old pair of overalls. I saw an old country geezer playing a homemade washtub bass. I offered to pay him to show me some of the basics. He refused the pay but taught me how to bend the strings. We watched the sun come up, standing in the middle of a dirt road listening to music, straight from Above. When I got home, I made my own.
In 1982, I was the head football church at Muscle Shoals where my janitor named Percy, who played in a hillbilly band, had a used upright bass for sale. I told Percy that it was beautiful, but we couldn’t afford it.
My wife, Barbara, was 7 months pregnant with our oldest son Jake (who is now 43 years old). She threw me a “pasture picking” bluegrass birthday party. Number 31 to be exact. We stood around the fire and played every song we knew. I was playing my washtub bass when my brother and friend, Ed Cross surprised me with that bass from the back of Bob’s camper. To this day, I still don’t know how she afforded it. I was shocked and surprised at the same time.
That bass has brought me a bunch of happiness and memories, through the years. It has been with me for 46 years and Elon Musk doesn’t have enough money to buy it from me.
For my 65th birthday, my wife invited a group of Destin friends to the Boathouse Oyster Bar for a gathering of friends. The surprise that night was a cake that Susan had made for me. The icing was a PERFECT replica of my Medicare card which I just became eligible for that day. We took picture after picture and hated to cut it. A special day.
About a week ago, Susan said she had something she needed to ask me. At our age, naturally it scared me until she asked: “What would you think about missing the Bama vs, Georgia football game?” I told her, “It better be something pretty important.”
She asked “What do you think about spending a week in Key West for your birthday? We can find a sports bar to watch the game.” I told her “I think I might be able to work that in my schedule.”
We flew at 7 am from Destin to Atlanta and then to Key West. My only visit to Key West was a brief stop from a cruise ship. She remembered I had said that someday, I would like to come back to the Conch Republic for a few days. Susan had arranged a nice place, right on the water.
I insisted on getting a rental car so we could see all the sights. We loaded our bags in the car and made our way to the house. When we got there, there was a key code lock on the front door, but the door was already open. Susan had gone on in front of me for her surprise.
When I turned the corner, I almost fainted. Six of our closest Destin friends had flown down, secretly, and jumped out from the front bedroom. Ronnie and Cindy Hall, Steve and Sherry Crawford, Roger and Judy Bailey. I was floored.
Usually, you have a little suspicion but not this time. Susan had arranged this, over a month ago and somehow, despite seeing my friends in Destin, no one spilled the beans.
The cherry on top, our good friends from Moultrie, Georgia, Al and Trish Clayton, had driven hours and hours to also show up. Even more special is the fact that Al has been going through radiation for prostrate cancer. He just finished treatments and his celebration was to drive to Key West for a few days together.
Last night, we chose to start the celebration at the Green Parrot on Duval Street. To top it off, we had a fun time at a karaoke bar on Duval Street. I won’t say our rendition of “My Girl” with Susan, Cindy, Judy and Sherry singing backup to the birthday boy will ever be stolen by America’s Got Talent, but no one will ever have more fun than a bunch of old geezers in Key West.
When you finally turn 75, it hits you between the eyes about how fortunate you are. Good health, especially for your family members, is near the top of the list. How about a spouse, brother, sister, children and grandchildren who fill your life with everything a man needs?
How about a group of friends who flew and drove hours, to celebrate in Key West for a few days?
If I could publicly thank God for my life, it would be simple:
“Thank you for 75 years of faith, family and friends. No man on Earth is luckier than me.”
These surprises, especially from “My Girl” are tough on an old heart.