August 24, 2004
The Mostest Specialest Birthday Ever
I am 21 years old. I suppose it would be the usual thing at this juncture to meditate a bit on my past year of life, look ahead to the future, and generally ruminate about getting older, crossing thresholds into adulthood, and settling into a stolid, mature state of responsible symbiosis with my fellow man.
But the fact is that I don't even feel a little bit contemplative right now . . . less so even than I usually feel. In fact, I don't think I could actually tell you the difference between my 20-year old and 21-year old selves if they were standing side by side in front of me (unless the latter model had, say, a bottle of Bacardi Silver in one hand). So that's quite enough of this "I'm 21" nonsense . . . I still haven't given my teenage years permission to leave, and I have a few more years to legitimately cling to them before I will be forced to enter the youth ministry as a career teen.
My birthday, as the title of this post has certainly indicated, was indeed quite special . . . and it started quite early. I was woken at the unholy hour of 8:30 in the morning. Audra was the first to wish me a happy birthday . . . so few people were that I was amusing myself by seeing who would remember when, and kept track of the first six people or so.
Anyway, I was woken up so that I could help Brett move in to his dorm room at South Plains College. This sterling academic institution is located in the aptly named town of Levelland (pop. 12866) which is located about a half-hour from Lubbock. Along the way you'll find yourself passing through towns such as Hurlwood, Smyer, and Opdyke West (pop. 150-450 each) . . . it's quite the itinerary.
I arrived on campus in a separate car from Brett, and he had already met his roommate and located his room. The two of them came out to meet me, and it was all I could do to keep my jaw in place.
Brett's new roommate was dragging on a cigarette as they approached. He sported a marine haircut and a bushy goatee. He was dressed all in black, but his t-shirt had the sleeves hacked off at the shoulder. He had an earring in his left ear and a skull amidst flames tatooed on his right arm (this last was a bit crooked and odd-looking, and I later heard that he got it for 30 bucks at some shady place or other). Every inch of exposed skin had the reddish-brown tint of a farmer's tan, and he wore glasses that had a yellowish tint. As he got closer I noticed that his eyes were swimming, and that I couldn't quite tell where he was looking. One eye remained stationary while the other seemed to rove at will (later discovered that the former is a glass eye . . . I forget what he did to it).
"Name's Russell, Russell Hinley. You can call me Russ, or Hinley. Hell, you can call me whatever you want, but most folks just call me Hinley."
Struggling to maintain a straight face, I accompanied them to their room with a load of stuff as they chattered happily about this and that. I noticed that Hinley had the annoying habit of punctuating most of his sentences (and ours) with a snorting giggle. Brett and Hinley had been assigned to the smallest room on the floor . . . and it was tiny. I tried to lighten the mood by joking that they must have gotten stuck in the supply closet by mistake and somewhere else on the floor they'd probably find a pile of mops and brooms enjoying the extra space. Hinley gave a snorting giggle. Brett was not amused.
Hinley already had his side of the room covered with Marine posters, and he and Brett carefully discussed such pressing matters as where to set up the TV, stereo, computer, X-Box . . . *sigh* Kids these days. So many gadgets and doo-hickeys. The discussion was complicated by the fact that their room only bothered to include one desk. They were very bitter about this fact, but I couldn't quite see where you would have fit another. I borrowed Brett's cell phone and left them to it, wandering outside to call my parents.
They were just leaving Levelland's Super Wal-Mart (here in West Texas every small town and its sister has a Super Wal-Wart) and would be arriving shortly. I felt the need to give them the heads-up, more for Brett's sake than theirs.
Me: "Now, dad, when it comes to Brett's roommate, you are expecting anything right?"
Dad: "What kind of anything are we talking about here?"
Me: "Oh. Ummm . . . Well, you know . . . ANYTHING."
Dad: "Ummm . . ."
Me: "Think earrings, tattoos and cigarette smoke . . ."
Dad: "Ah. Right." *brief pause* "Yeah. Yeah, we're expecting anything."
Me: "Good. See you in a bit then."
I was terribly proud of them, actually. My mother's face was totally straight. My dad was as friendly as always. Perhaps they've already been prepared for such shocks by visits with my friends . . .? But further speculation along that line is unnecessary.
After a little while longer we went to lunch at Dairy Queen and then returned to my grandparents' house in Lubbock to get ready for my birthday cookout. I crashed out in front of the computer and started composing this post, but I was interrupted by Micah, who wanted me to take him to Hastings so he could buy me a birthday present. Some people just have no consideration for others . . . totally selfish.
We went, but after we'd been there for about 10 minutes, my mom called to inform Micah that he had already purchased me a present, and that she would be sure to tell him what it was when he got home. And, oh yeah, could we please pick up some ice from the grocery store on the way back?
We picked up the ice, and I crashed out again . . . only to be sent back for more ice. I used the opportunity to slip into Barnes & Noble and use the $25 gift card my parents had given me . . . I got Trivial Pursuit: Book Lover's Edition. *evil cackle*
Then, I barely had time to write anymore before people started arriving. My dad's parents came, along with Ashley and Audra and family and my cousin Shawn and company (family of my mom's only sibling). I enjoyed the usual cookout stuff and then we ate cake.
Apparently twenty-one candles is a bit much, so there was a large number two and a matching number one. My mom had a bit of trouble lighting them, blew one out herself ("Thanks, mom. Now I only get half a wish."), and finally presented the cake to me after the traditional song. Wanting to make absolutely sure that I got both candles with a single blow, I huffed and I puffed and I blew hot wax all over my mom's arm.
"Ummm . . . Thanks for not dropping my cake, mom."
And then it was finally time for the traditional birthday ritual. This is the part where everyone gets to sit in a semi-circle and very carefully study my reaction as I see, for the first time, what they've gotten for me this year. I am pleased to report that no acting was necessary . . . although I must mention that I only got one birthday card that wasn't insulting.
And now, as per Scholl's request, the haul:
-Another $25 gift cards to Barnes & Noble
-A Lord Peter Wimsey mystery (by Dorothy Sayers) and an Ellis Peters mystery
-A John Eldredge book *doesn't remember title*
-A book light that turns off after preprogrammed amount of time (for those who often fall asleep and waste batteries)
-The Compleat Works of Wllm Shkspr (abridged)
-A 2005 Yiddish Word-a-day Calendar (Everyone was a bit confused by this and I got to give a brief lecture on the subject of Yiddish . . . that was fun)
-Cash
The aforementioned cash and gift card I used to get:
-"Big Fish" (Daniel Wallace), "The Godfather" (Mario Puzo), and "Whose Body?" (Dorothy Sayers) . . . (the books)
-"Schindler's List," "Amadeus: Director's Cut," and "The Seventh Seal" (yes, the movies)
Yay!
Anyway, after this the evening quickly drew to a close . . . We watched "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and stuff and then I fell asleep reading. And my light turned itself off. I am pleased.
Posted by Jared at August 24, 2004 11:59 PM | TrackBack