Eucalyptus and Dry Grass (Birthday Pte. II)

[I wasn't my idea to extend my birthday through the whole weekend and into Monday, but that's the way it fell out. Leah and Arthur had been saying for weeks that wasn't it time for a trip up to my parents' already? I'm blessed with one of those sets of parents who live in one of those houses in one of those towns - all my friends want to visit. It hasn't got to the point where I wonder if it's me or the parents' country home in Sonoma with a hot tub and wine cellar they love, but you know...]

[Anyway, when Mom asked what I wanted to do for my 36th, I thought of L. and A.'s agitiation and replied how about a barbecue? I invited a few folks, rented a car, and looked forwrd to a little time out of the city. By the day, one invitee got called into work, another was seeing a childhood friend, and another got one of those 24-hour, brown-bottle flus that are going around. So it was me, Sean, and Arthur in the rented PT Cruiser convertible. (I know, I know, but with the top down, it doesn't look quite as bad, and it's tres comfy.) I gave my usual 10-cent spiel as we PT-Cruised Sonoma Plaza, sampled cheese at Sonoma Jack, and headed to the parents' for BBQ pork loin (you're not the only one, Aaron) and sundry sides.]

[Vignette #1: Sean, Arthur and I are playing frisbee in my parents' backyard at twilight. (Cue corny crickets and ironic sneers from the peanut gallery.) Arthur hurls the disc over the neighbors' fence, and it lands in the small field on which they can't build because septic tank standards have gotten a lot tougher since the '70s. The fence is only on one side, and the nabes don't mind if we trespass. I bound over dry grass, smelling eucalyptus in the dusk, retrieve the frisbee, and am suddenly eleven years old again. Kate and I are dragging our sleeping bags out to that same field and will camp outside with the neighbor kids. There will be Capture The Flag or Mother May I. There will be Pink Floyd and the Heavy Metal soundtrack from our new "boom box." We'll scoff at flashlights so we can preserve our night vision.]

[Jolting return to reality #1: Kate's 33, almost 34, and five months pregnant. (Ultrasound says a girl, they've chosen the name "Audrey Helen.") I got a 36th birthday card from her and her husband, addressed to "Uncle Bill." I'm not eleven anymore.]

[But I'm gonna be a damn cool uncle.]

[(To be continued: I had the car another whole day...)]

Previously Next