Blueberries and Birth Nights

taken by Stefani Kuo, thanks for being my picking buddy

Bill’s family has an endearing tradition surrounding birthdays where they will call to wish each other “happy birth-night.” The goal is to reach the very special birthday kid, or mom, or sister or uncle with this very special message before anyone else in the family has reached them. It’s somewhat complicated because, unfortunately, no one in the family can firmly agree on when “birth-night” IS. What is the timeframe here? Is it the night before their birthday? or the night of? Honestly, I think it’s my favorite type of game. Stakes are high, rules are confusing, everyone is a winner and everyone is a loser just based on the fact that they are playing at all.

So, tonight, on either my birth night or just a regular day, depending on who of the Frisch family you are talking to, a few reflections:

31 tomorrow. Okay, cool. How I feel about that age is anyone’s guess. I don’t know, you tell me. It’s just a number….an objectively weird number. It’s prime. It’s one year past the milestone big 30, which can be panicky if you don’t feel like you have, in fact, milestone-d. It’s also, famously, the number of ice cream flavors that the national chain Baskin Robbins served when they first opened back in 195whatever. To this day, you can still find the number hidden within the sides of their “BR” logo (you can also find that it sorta says “BI,” but that’s neither here nor there)