Born on the Fourth of July
Every year I am reminded of my membership into a pretty small, selective club.
It’s nothing fancy. Nor is it secretive or exciting. It’s called the Holiday Club and it sucks.
Your only requirement is to be born on a holiday, and my requirement is met every July 4.
To some, being born on a holiday sounds cool. Everyone gets to celebrate with you.
However, as with everything, it has its downside. Being born on a holiday guarantees that no matter what you hope for, your entire day is already planned out for you. If you’re born on Thanksgiving, you’re eating Turkey, not sushi (even though you really wanted to).
If you’re born on Easter, your morning is spent going to church or hunting for eggs, even though you were really planning on going snorkeling.
Each year, my birthday is the exact same. Parades, picnics and fireworks. It never changes, never varies and leaves no room for excitement.
I think out of all of the holidays, being born on Christmas has got to be the worst. Heck, being born during the entire month of December has to be difficult.
Kids born near Christmas always seem to get the short end of the stick. “Well, I can either give you a really nice birthday present, or a really nice Christmas present,” seems to be the standard response from most people.
How is that fair? If that kid were born in August, would he have to choose?
Holidays leave no room for spontaneity. Your schedule is not only planned out for you already, but 90 percent of the things that you would normally want to see or do are closed because it’s a holiday.
Everyone is busy spending time with their family on holidays, so you can’t blame them if they can’t make it to your casual birthday party scheduled in the middle of 15 parades and 27 firework shows.
Despite the downside, my family and friends try to make my birthday as special as they can. I am truly blessed to have such amazing people in my life who try and find ways to boost that silver lining.
Next year, things are going to be different. I am going to find that spontaneity, and celebrate my 25th in a big way. If I want to have sushi instead of a hot dog, I’m going to have it. And if I want to go skydiving instead of watching fireworks, I’m going to make it happen. Because, by God, it’s my birthday and I’m going to do it my way.
You only celebrate your birthday once a year, so why not make it as awesome as possible. I just hope the skydiving place is open on holidays, because that sounds like fun.