Editor's note

By Matt Hirschfeld

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Every birthday morning, from when I was old enough to sleep without a crib through high school graduation, I would wake up to a present that my mom placed at the edge of my bed. I was genuinely surprised in my elementary years, but by my adolescent years, it had become as customary as pretending Santa Claus was real for my younger brother.

Even though the gifts evolved from the latest gotta-have LEGO set to envelopes of money, I’d always appreciated the importance my mom placed on my special day. Whatever I wanted to eat that day, I’d get. Whomever I wanted to spend the day with, they’d be there. And even though I didn’t get whatever I’d asked for, my mom tried her hardest for the most reasonable substitute.

In my college years, birthdays come and go without a present on the edge of the bed. Friends plan my birthday party or the bar trip instead of my parents. I usually don’t see my parents on my birthday and I usually get only a card in the mail or a phone call sometime during the special day. Becka’s story on page 6 enlightens what I can get around Lawrence for free on my birthday to make up for traditions lost. A free shot or free dessert can go a long way when turning a year older.

Stand-up comedian Jim Gaffigan self-deprecatingly comments on why we place such an importance on our days of birth: “I can’t believe I’m going to work on my birthday. I can’t believe I’m doing laundry on my birthday. I can’t believe I’m paying for sex on my birthday.”

For my last birthday, my big 2-1, it was Memorial Day, so I was legally obligated to not go to work. I avoided laundry all together. And I got the sex for free. Just kidding, but for my next birthday, I’ll know where to go to get liquored up and fattened up for free on my big day.

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