Of Summer Birthdays

All the kids around here going back to school has made me think of my elementary school days, especially kindergarten with Ms. Drake and first grade with Mrs. Adams. Each one of these teachers made her students feel special and individual, but they were tough ladies who didn't mess around. Ms. Drake was particularly impressive at separating crying mothers and children from each other on the first day of school, and Mrs. Adams assigned us all lunch partners to keep the ruckus to a minimum.

Most of my early elementary teachers had a special ritual for students who celebrated birthdays during the school year. Ms. Drake made a paper crown out of shiny gold paper and the birthday boy or girl was allowed to sit in the privileged space next to her on the floor during circle time while everyone sang "Happy Birthday." Mrs. Adams gave birthday children a special reading book chosen for his or her reading ability at the time of the birthday.

I hated when those children celebrated birthdays. Having a summer birthday meant that the Ms Drakes and the Mrs. Adamses over the years did not hand me a special gift or single me out. Having a summer birthday meant that my mom did not bring cupcakes and Hi-C to school at lunchtime on my birthday. Having a summer birthday meant that my school friends were usually on vacation or had forgotten about me over the summer and did not come to birthday parties. I had serious birthday envy.

But now I love having a summer birthday. In the summer, ice cream and cake melt together more quickly. A summer birthday means I can sit out on the patio with a cold drink in the evening. I have decided that missing out on all the special-ness of the elementary school birthday celebrations means that I deserve to draw my birthday out as long as I want, even over the course of several days.

So this year, my summer birthday meant I could watch a Red Sox game at Fenway the day before my birthday, buy a too-expensive t-shirt, and drink cold beer all afternoon because Amtrak doesn't mind if you drink and ride. Baseball games don't happen in the winter.

A few days later, having a summer birthday meant I could go to the Newport Folk Festival and hear Emmylou Harris, Elvis Costello, the Carolina Chocolate Drops, the David Wax Museum, and a bunch of other performers all on the same day. The Folk Festival doesn't happen in the winter.

Baseball games and good music beat a shiny paper crown and dry cupcakes.