I recognize that we have just emerged from a festive season, but in my world, the holidays were just the warm up for some truly historic occasions.
Last week we celebrated my mother-in-law’s 80th birthday, and my dad’s 80th is just around the corner. All of the forethought and planning that have gone into acknowledging these milestones has me contemplating what I would like my 80th birthday to be like, should I be blessed to experience such longevity.
Carla put together a beautiful drop-by party for Mama that we hosted here at the house. She had lovely invitations printed and made sure to include family and friends from Sandersville, church and The Sheridan where she lives now. Carla rolled out the red carpet with plenty of pimento cheese and petits fours, absolute must-haves at any respectable Southern social gathering.
Planning for Dad’s birthday has been a little more low key. He opted not to have a big party, and Mom says he’d probably just like to go fishing. I was happy we were able to see him right after Christmas, but with work and school schedules, it’s not looking like we will make it back down to Florida for the big day.
As a retired pastor, he has had some big birthday bashes in the past, and I think he’s over all that now. Truth be told, I don’t know if he thought he’d make it to 80. But if there’s anything I’ve learned from looking for ways to celebrate Mama and Dad, it’s that you honor their wishes, especially on their special day.
So with that in mind, I’m offering a few notes to my 80th birthday party planners while it’s fresh and I still have my wits about me. (Boys, take note. You’ll be the ones having to throw this shindig.) Here’s what I want at my 80th birthday party:
Accessibility. By the time I reach 80 all my friends and I will have walkers. Pick a venue with limited stairs and preferably ramps. You might even want a parking area like those stroller parking lots at Disney. Or even better, find a completely flat spot. Let’s not pretend this won’t be an issue because it absolutely will be. I don’t want to fall on my birthday, and I certainly don’t want to lose any guests to a broken hip.
Mystery guests. Sure, I want my loved ones to attend: Friends, family, grandkids, in-laws, outlaws and hangers on. But I’m an extrovert, so feel free to throw in a few randos, too. I’d love it if I engage in an awkward conversation with someone I don’t know but think I should know who’s just there as a plus one and ends up having to tell me their life story. That would be amazing. Oh, and I want all the regulars who are still living, too, but throw in some wild cards just to keep it interesting.
Warm weather. I have managed to avoid having cold birthdays by being born in July, but I can already tell you that I’m going to be susceptible to too much air conditioning. Plan it for outdoors. A nice picnic pavilion or a backyard. I don’t care if you people sweat through your clothes. It’s my birthday, and I want it to be comfortable for me. You people will just have to suffer. Turn on a sprinkler if you have to. You can even make it a pool party. Just don’t expect me to don my swimming trunks. Nobody wants to see that now, much less when I’m 80.
BBQ. Smoke a pile of meats of all descriptions. If I haven’t had a heart attack yet, then let’s just plan on finishing off the job of clogging my arteries with some brisket, pulled pork, ribs, smoked sausage and even some whole chickens. My mouth is watering just thinking of it. Break out all the fixin’s, too – Brunswick stew, beans, cole slaw, pickles, Texas toast, and some collards. Now I may not be able to chew it, but at least I will be able to smell it.
Great stories. Someone needs to commence to tellin’ tall tales to keep things lively. If my brothers are still around, get them to break out the classics like Lee pushing me into the swimming pool, Lyle stepping on a pitchfork, Dad taking us on a little drive after Thanksgiving lunch that ended up being a weekend getaway to Houston and Galveston, and anything from my adventures as the Forrest Gump of journalism. If imposed upon, I would even be willing to read some of the highlights of New South Essays. I’ve put it all out there, so you have plenty of material to choose from.
Laughter. Nothing makes me happier than to hear, or better still, cause laughter. If the aforementioned stories don’t get folks to laughing, somebody hire a standup comedian. Preferably someone who’s clean and Southern, like Dusty Slay or Nate Bargatze. And if they aren’t available, I’m very open to the idea of a roast. I’m sure it’ll be easy to poke fun at me when I’m 80. At 53 I already can barely hear and my memory is slipping. Get people laughing by any means necessary.
Musical tribute. When my brother Lee got married, I practiced for weeks on the harmonica and played a moving rendition of “You Are My Sunshine.” You don’t have to hire professional musicians, but someone please put in some effort and write or perform a musical number, preferably about a train or bass fishing or just sing Robert Earl Keen’s “Feelin’ Good Again.”
Hugs and kisses. This wasn’t on my radar until Mama’s party last week. I’m really not a touchy-feely kinda guy, and I resonated with my dear departed father-in-law, Lanny Barron, who called it “that kissy-kissy mess.” But when I get to 80, I’m thinking a hug would feel real good right about then. Besides, we had a scandalous lipstick imprint incident at Mama’s party and that made for some great laughs (see above) at Harris’ expense.
No gifts. I’ve got too much stuff now. I’m sure that will be an even bigger problem if I reach 80. The only gift I want is your presence. And maybe one of those hugs I was talking about. Oh, and you could write me a song. But other than that, I don’t need any presents.
There you have it. It’s not exactly a last will and testament, but being of sound mind and body, it’s what I think I will want for my 80th birthday. And if you have an 80th birthday coming up soon, feel free to borrow any of these ideas. You don’t even have to give me credit.
What do you want for your 80th birthday? Share your ideas in a comment below, and let us all anticipate what a fun time it will be joining the ranks of the octogenarians.
New South Essays 