Merry Birthday!

Every year, someone decides to run a story about the poor, unfortunate souls who were unlucky enough to be born near Christmas. This year, the local Sacramento Bee drew the lot (go here for the article). They didn't do a half bad job but it still stands for me to set the record straight.

I'm a Christmas (Eve) birthday babe. And I like it.

It's a great time to have a birthday. Everyone's already in a party mood.

The only real pain are the ding-a-lings who want to offer me their sympathy. Them I wanna smack.

As a kid, my mom always made me a special German chocolate cake, my favorite. No prob. She was already cooking up a storm for Christmas, so an elaborate homemade cake fit right in, and there was alwauys leftover for the holiday dinner.

I got to open my birthday gifts before Christmas gifts for sure, but everyone else shared the fun because my mother let all the kids open one Christmas gift early so we all partied. Last year, I honored that tradition in my house by having my then-six-year-old son and his three cousins open an early gift at my house during my Evenight birthday party too. Took me back ...

It got better as I got older. My high school and college friends often threw me a boogie night before Christmas. There's nothing better than having "Happy Birthday!" sung to you on a cold, clear night on top of San Francisco's Twin Peaks (go here to see the breathtaking view) after listening to Christmas carols in Union Square. School was out, Christmas club or holiday job money was in, and as several friends told me over the years, "This is where were you hang with the people you want to celebrate the season with", as opposed to holidays with family members you can't stand to be in the same zip code with.

Out of school, I've often thrown a Christmas Eve or birthday bash before Eve, party and I've never had a problem filling the guest list. Again, it's a time to party, so can you ask for a better time to have been born?

So I agree with the woman in the Bee story who said she felt sorry for poor dears born in the middle of summer. I've got in-laws and friends born in July and August and their birthdays get passed over because everyone's gone to the Riviera. (My wife is an exception; she was born on Memorial Day and we celebrate every year with a hello-summer BBQ.) Me, I never have to worry about that.

Of course, then there is the former co-worker born on December 31st. She clearly has the best of all possible worlds.

Like me, she has the advantage of a birthday which really marks the end of one year and the start of another. I find myself reviewing the past year and planning for the next because it is a new year in all ways. It gives me a strong sense of winter solstice rebirth, which is probably why I've always felt so strongly about the holiday season.

So all you poor schlepps out there who weren't fortunate enough to be born around Christmas, I down a full cup of holiday egg nog to you. You truly have my deepest, deepest sympathies.