Fifty eight years ago this was an important date for me. I had no clue it was important at the time. Today, fifty eight years later, I am still clueless why I should consider it important. Especially now.
Fifty eight April 9ths have passed since I was born. 58 days out of 21,170 days(not counting those leap year days) that are somehow more special than all the other days I have taken up space on this planet. Out of those fifty eight special days, not a one sticks out or seems memorable. Some parties, presents, and cakes when I was a child. Some completely forgotten ones there in the middle. And now they have become nothing but a reminder I may be running out of them. It is safe to say I think, my Life bag is less than half full at this point.
I met a guy once who did not know when he was really born. He did not get a birth certificate until he was an adult. He had to have one to step out of the back woods life he had been raised in. The real world would not accept him without a piece of paper that confirmed he was indeed alive and had been born somewhere.
This guy was not even sure which state he was born in. It was either North Carolina or Tennessee. After much digging and contacting his relatives, they managed to pin down the year and the season (summer). He picked the state with the loosest rules. He chose July 4th, 1948 in the state of North Carolina. Of course this happened only after officious state bureaucrats had their specific forms filled out to their satisfaction. He told me it took a year or so to finally be given a birthday.
I can remember being so envious of this guy. He wasn't saddled with being stuck with whatever the creator gave him. He was able to cherry pick a date that suited him. July 4th. What a great day to pick. Damn easy to remember and folks don't get so mushy gushy over you because they are too busy waving flags, sparking off M-80s and firing bottle rockets through their neighbor's windows.
Time. A subject that has always fascinated me. Birthdays are a minor part of the idea of Time. A very minor part. And if truth be told, I am not convinced Time exists outside of our minds. But we did come up with it. Time has had a mostly positive affect on our growth as a species I guess. But in my mind Time is just a way for us to mark a beginning and an end of somethings existence. It puts comfortable borders on the Universe. It lends reliable prognostication and allows us to glimpse into what an existence can expect as it comes into being and then goes out of being.
Okay, enough of that shit. I could get lost for quite a long state of being over the subject of Time.
So anyway. This guy picked his birthday. It prodded me to find out if April 9th had anything going on that was noteworthy. I figured something important had to happen on at least one or two April 9ths besides my birth.
I was right. April it seems is a war mongering month. All kinds of killing, marching, invading, retreating, and blood letting happened in April. The one date I always bring up is April 9th, 1865. Grant and Lee made it official and ended the Civil War. Had the war lasted 3 more days, the Civil War would have been exactly 4 years long. Seems April is a good month to start wars and to end them. This makes sense as winter never loaned itself to really effective warfare. Not until later when weather played less of a role than it did back in the day. Winter was Licking Wounds Time. Spring was "get er done" time. Or fold em time. So it makes sense that most of the month falls under the sign of Aries and the watchful eye of Mars, the Roman God of War.
Being an Arian, I should be all gung ho about war and stuff. But I am not. I think war is a stupid waste of men, materiel, and yes, Time. I guess maybe the Moon was rising just so or the stars were out of whack just right, but I have always hated violence. I am a disgrace to the legacy of my month. Sure wish I could have picked a better date that suited my personality better. But there you are all of sudden eyes out of focus, you are covered in yucky stuff and strange people wearing white are goo gooing over you while the nurse in the corner fills in the blanks on some piece of paper that will later prove you are indeed alive and were actually born on this planet.
I hear the bike shop calling...........See Ya.............