By John W. Lillpop
In the way of disclosure, January 7 is my birthday. The year of my arrival is irrelevant. Besides, I am bitterly opposed to the evil practice of age discrimination; withholding the year of my birth is my small contribution to the fight against ageism.
Suffice it to say that I am old enough to know better, but too damn old to do “it,” whatever it might be.
As a Capricorn, I share the zodiac sign of many famous folks, some great and good, some heathen and hell-bound.
Among the great, of course, is Jesus Christ, he whose birthday we just celebrated or protested, depending on one’s religious persuasion.
Katie Couric, the sawed-off little leftist nut ball who has damn near driven CBS into bankruptcy, was also born on January 7, a fact that I would just as soon forget.
In fact, I demand to see her birth certificate before ceding the point.
Other famous Capricorn folks include Muhamed Ali, World Champion boxer and Richard M. Nixon, former President of the U.S.
Nixon was a known liar and crook.
On reflection, however, his transgressions were actually quite trivial when compared to the impeachable crimes committed damn near every day by that illegal alien Marxist now holding 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue hostage.
Although I am grateful for having survived another 365 days on this dreary journey to lord knows what, the very idea of “celebrating” another GD birthday perplexes me.
With each passing birthday, one’s bodily functions deteriorate: One’s sight, hearing, energy level, brain function and libido all go wonky, or actually disappear altogether!
Life functions that one used to barely notice become major issues as the years pass. Examples are bowel movements and orgasms, which used to be taken for granted, but now prompt raucous celebration when properly executed.
Looking objectively at the past, one can see that arthritis, heart disease, impotence, and memory loss are common attributes of growing older, with the specter of Alzheimer’s always looming in the shadows.
Just why in the bloody hell would anyone celebrate getting a year closer toward any of that?
I say to hell with my birthday, except for one wish that really sums it all up: I hope to as long I want to, and want to as long as I live!
Now if I could just remember what “wanting to” is all about!