It was my birthday last Thursday. First day of summer. Longest day of the year. As I mentioned last year, it was certainly the longest day for my mom all those decades ago. I'm not a big reader of horoscopes but, being on what they call "the cusp," which sounds rather painful, frankly, I can pick and choose between Gemini and Cancer. Depending on which one sounds best, that's the one I go with for my birthday. This year both told me I was a dunce and should stay home all day. But, I didn't. Out on the road, I noticed one of those motorist assist vehicles slipping in and out of my blind spot. At first, I assumed he was going to tell me of some problem with my car. Not news you ever want to hear but, for me, especially this last week, when I had just forked over several hundred bucks so my little blue Escort would no longer sound like a Sherman Tank coming into the cul-de-sac. Well, I accelerated out of his way. At the next stop light, he pulled up and honked his horn. Despite the 90 degree temperature that day, I had my windows open as I drove because

a) I enjoy nature.
b) I think it is more environmentally friendly not to use the a/c.
c) It is healthier not to use the a/c.
d) The air conditioning in my car hasn't worked for about two summers.

The correct answer is, mostly, "d."

So, anyway, I looked his way and said "Yes?" "Is my tail-light out?" he inquired. Okay. How's this for four-wheeling irony: The Motorist Assist Guy Asking Me For Motorist Assistance? He pulled ahead a little and I took a look. I told him it did look like a light was out. He motored on. Then, at the next light, he pulled up next to me again and shouted "Next question: Who was the first weatherman in Kansas City?" So, now, I'm on a rolling game show. If I get it right do I win luggage or a trip to Tightwad Missouri or a car air-freshener? "I'm afraid I don't know off the top of my head," I whimpered. "Shelby Storck!" came the triumphant answer. "That sure sounds familiar...you take care, now," I said as the traffic began to pick up. I hope he got his tail-light fixed.

Anyway, thanks to all of you who sent birthday wishes via e-mail, voice mail and snail mail. Around my house, I was well-gifted. All thoughtful, nice gifts. All undeserved. However, again, as in the past, the choices certainly say a lot about my children's' view of their father. I received a jigsaw puzzle featuring film stars of the past, a couple of books, a well-upholstered lawn chair, some shorts with widely-expandable waists and, just so those drawstrings get some action, a basket full of sweet treats. Now, I know I'm no Spring Chicken. Chicken, yes. Spring, no. More like early Fall. But, like some past gift-giving holidays, the wonderful presents do seem to suggest a rather sedentary life-style.

Of course, I wouldn't want a motorbike or jet-ski. They scare me. Frankly, I don't think I've had a very remarkable or interesting mid-life crisis at this point. No convertibles. No sky-diving. No all-night poker games. About the only mid-life risk I've taken is trying to do the Daily Jumble on a regular basis. Well, I guess I could live dangerously and set up my card-table outdoors. Put my new puzzle together while sitting in my new lawn chair, wearing my new shorts, eating my candy and, when the puzzle gets too exciting, take a reading break. Whew. Just thinking about all that makes me have to take a nap.