My husband celebrated a birthday Monday. Our good friend John has the same birthday and for years the guys have noted the day together with a round of golf, parties, sometimes cake and almost certainly, beer. Since John and we live 1,600 miles apart these days, a phone call had to suffice.
I joked about a surprise party that I did not throw. We imagined the local characters I could have summoned, as replacements for the friends who, in years past, have always been around to help us celebrate. We said, certainly Tarot Guy from the downtown mall, and the Bosnian fellow with the long hair and beard who is a regular fixture at the Mudhouse. Perhaps the cheerful cart guy at Harris Teeter, the one who always has a nice smile and a pleasant greeting. Wouldn’t that have been something? To walk into your surprise birthday party to be welcomed by all these faces that are so familiar, and yet are strangers? I wish in a way I had the guts.
