Birthday partial disclosure (courtesy of ol' Southern lady customs. It's true - they are harder to kill than tree roaches):
- Yes, it's my birthday. I'm one year older than I was last year.
- I'm only as old as I feel.
- A lady doesn't tell.
Well folks, I'm not a lady (but I'm all woman.) Today I turned 37. And PS: It feels fabulous to break out of the age closet.
Somehow, along the way of life, it became bad taste to ask someone their age. And even worse taste to answer truthfully. People (oh, let's be honest, mostly women) were told to shut it, stay sly and avoid - at all costs - the age question. (Enter the coy dragon. Bruce Lee ain't got nothing on this.)
So why all the hubbub? Why the silent treatment? Why is there the distinct refusal to proudly fly your age flag?
Aside from vanity (hello Hollywood and 99% of the population - me included), the only answer I have is the fact that this notion of hiding is so ingrained that sometimes folks aren't sure how to react when you just tell them the truth.
For example:
- Conversation 1:
- Colleague: How old are you today?
- Me: What? [In my defense, old habits are hard to shake.]
- Colleague: How old are you?
- Me: 37.
- Colleague: 37? Wow - I'm going to be 37 this year. [Then later:] I have one kid. We're working on another before my lady parts dry up.
- Conversation 2:
- Setting: Conference call, three people - one looking for personalized information to write down as part of a presentation.
- Person 1: Happy birthday, Melanie. How old are you today?
- Me: 37
- Person 2: Let's do degrees instead.
- Me: 37
- Person 2: Yes, 37 degrees.
I'm 37. And I'm ok with it. Here's a clip that celebrates the number 37. Be warned, if you aren't a Kevin Smith fan (and hence have an idea of what this clip is), you might be offended. Perhaps you should just Google it.
Video clip.
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