Thirty and Onward

It's Britt's 30th birthday today. She and her Gang of Four are going to see a band at the Independent tonight. Of course this morning we warned her of the benefits of ear plugs. Of course she smiled indulgently. Used to be the warnings were for indecent behavior. Now, it's just tinnitus.

I can't remember turning 30. I really can't. Dan was one month old. We lived on the farm. I was probably making Super 8 movies of hanging diapers on the clothes line out behind the summer kitchen.

What I do remember is how beautiful those years were. Right about this time, in 1975, Mom and the Chief came out to the farm to see Baby Dan. I said to Harry, "Have you ever seen a more beautiful baby than Dan?" "No, Boychik, never," said the Chief. He always knew what to say and when to say it.

So I guess Mom and Chiefie were there for my thirtieth. So Thirty in Catawissa, forty in Echo Park, I guess, fifty and sixty up here. Seventy? Maybe we'll be picking olives in Calabria.

I remember two years ago, in Gangivecchio, Sicily. That was a memorable one, for sure.