This is the kind of thing that happens when you join Facebook — ghosts from your past find you and remind you of this that and then. I can’t tell you how many times I thought about posting this picture before deciding against it, but since it’s my birthday and I’m feeling wistful and self-indulgent, I thought I’d share this little blast from the past: Playing bass in the school auditorium with a band called Avatar circa who knows when, 1979? Fifteen years old believe it or not. Ah, sweet bird of youth.
“I don’t feel like celebrating my birthday,” I said.
“Uh oh,” said Deborah. “Should cancel the bakery order?”
At the time, I didn’t know she had ordered anything, though I should have guessed.
“What is it,” I said. “A big cake or something?”
“Or something. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but it’s too much for just the two of us. Are you sure?”
All week I’ve been telling people that I was tentatively planning to have a little birthday celebration at a bar, or a restaurant and that I’d fill them in on the details as soon as I figured them out.
I never did.
Meanwhile, Deborah went ahead and ordered a dozen cupcakes decorated with edible pictures of Star Trek babes for the occasion.
She tried to get me excited about a little party, but it wasn’t working. I don’t know why. Deborah called the bakery, but it was too late, they were putting on the finishing touches.
“Oh well,” she said. “We’re going to have a lot of cupcakes to eat.”
“I’m sorry, but you understand, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Deborah was on the fence about celebrating her own birthday earlier this year. She wanted something big one day and nothing at all the next. We wound up doing something in-between — a quiet dinner with a couple of friends. I didn’t even want to do that much.
“Maybe we can freeze them until next year.”
Since the was no reason not to, we dug into them early and had a couple last night. We stood over them, debating which one we each wanted. I chose the green girl, and Deborah chose Yeoman Rand. “I chose her because I remember you telling me that you had a crush on her when you were a kid.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“Would you have been embarrassed to have Star Trek cupcakes at a party?” Deborah said as we peeled away the paper.
“What’s to be embarrassed about?” I said. “It’s not like they’re Star Trek Next Generation cupcakes or you were going to start singing Happy Birthday in Klingon.”
