Fifty-Seven

Dearest Rachel –

Seven and a half years ago, the family gathered at a restaurant after Sunday services (like we often did back then, but this was a fancier place than we’d usually assemble at, since this was a special occasion) to celebrate my parents’ anniversary. For the life of me, I can’t remember what we got them (and I’d wager neither could they, at this juncture. If nothing else, there’s a point in time where every year blends into the next, and it’s hard to tell them apart unless something truly unique happens in a given year), but I do remember the two of us getting, as a gag gift (which was unusual for us as a family), a bottle of Heinz 57 sauce, since it was their fifty-seventh.

I’ve no idea if they ever used any of it; if not, I’m sure they tossed it out upon it passing its expiry date, so it’s not as if they could pass it back to me at this point. Not that I would expect it back – I’m no Indian giver (is that an acceptable phrase to use anymore, or is it too politically incorrect? I can’t think of a better, let alone more colorful, term for the concept) – but the symbolism has switched.

Yep, I’m turning fifty-seven today. Not that I see any significance in that, any more than I do in Heinz choosing that number to be their designated emblem. They already had more than sixty varieties of product when it was so chosen, and that number has only increased since. I’ve been led to understand that he considered the number five to be lucky, and his wife thought the same of the number seven, but that still would beg the question; why not use seventy-five, instead? It’s more of a nice round number (well, okay, a half-number, if you think of “round” numbers as the ones ending in zero), and it would probably have reflected the product catalog that much better (although it, too, would probably have been eclipsed during Heinz’ lifetime, to say nothing of the century since). Besides, wouldn’t a true gentleman have put his wife’s number first, in any event?

Then again, seventy-five is associated with so many things (diamond jubilees, just as a starting example), whereas the number fifty-seven is so odd (quite literally, in fact) that it really doesn’t bring anything else to mind – even today, well over a century later – other than the Heinz brand, so perhaps old Henry J. was onto something, in terms of marketing.

None of which really means anything, of course, any more than what this day ostensibly represents to me; it’s just marking the end of one more trip around the sun. One more beyond the number that you managed to take – not that it was a trip that you (or anyone else) noticed while it was happening. Outside of EPCOT, Spaceship Earth isn’t exactly a noticeable ride (and even that version isn’t what one would call a thrill ride). Despite the alleged speeds we deal with as the colossal rock we crawl around over spins while circling the sun (which, in its turn, orbits around the massive black hole that holds the galaxy together, while the Milky Way itself careens through space at multiple millions of miles per hour on top of that), we have to deliberately keep track of time to note that anything is happening while it passes. Certainly, the world itself isn’t going to make each circuit known to us, apart from the changes from day to night, and the passage of seasons. What’s another April 3rd, any more than another May 14th?

At the same time, those that exist alongside me in the little corner of the world I inhabit are more aware of it than have been in the past couple of years. This is the first time in three years I’ve been home on the day, so there are family and friends to celebrate with, should I so choose (or it could be put off until the weekend, to coincide with their schedules). For all that I keep getting email ads from travel agencies about how special a birthday abroad would be – and it is special to be out traveling, don’t get me wrong – nothing is made of the day to set it apart for you while out traveling. I’ve done it, and I know what I’m talking about. It may be more mundane of a day, compared to the last couple of years, but at least there are those who will wish me well, despite the fact that, otherwise, it’s really just another Thursday.

One interesting touch is that, when I got ahold of “Lee” this morning to wish her well – and ask her what she was doing today, as she begins a new job next week (and recently, she thanked me for being an encouragement throughout her search for that new job, so that’s something) – it turns out that she is celebrating her birthday today as well; moreover, it’s her fifty-seventh. I’ve no idea if that’s a sign or not, but I did ask if we could get together this weekend to celebrate together, so maybe this will be a more interesting birthday season than most. Maybe old Henry J.’s magic number can work its magic on the both of us; who knows?

But with that having been said, I’ll ask you to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.