Initiating Birthday

When I was in high school, birthdays were an excellent chance to display ones social status. I lived in Orlando, Florida, and our high school had two campuses, a huge courtyard, and spacious, outdoor hallways. If it was your birthday, your friends would often give you those silvery balloons featuring cartoon characters and short greeting like, "Your Rock!", available at your local grocery store or 7-11. Almost everyone received a balloon or two, but the popular usually received enough balloons to float a new-born calf. You could see them walking across the courtyard, their glistening prizes bobbing over and behind and beside their heads. An open peacock's tail.

American birthday tradition means that you are the king and your friends and relatives are your servants. This, of course, makes it an awkward letdown to move to a new town where nobody really knows your birthday. This is awkward, because birthdays are more special when your friends don't need to be reminded to be thoughtful. So, actually telling people your birthday's coming up, let alone throwing your own party where you pay for the cake, the drinks and the pointy hats somehow falls in the loss column, soothed a little by the surprise birthday package sent by your mom.

Here in Germany, the whole family went to a birthday party in honor of my wife's Grandmother. It was just today, and it was held in our little towns' nicest biergarten (I ate some delicious maultaschen - yum yum). The difference was, she paid for the whole thing. In Germany, the birthday kid is the servant. As soon as they are old enough, they plan the party. They buy the drinks, food and favors, though I haven't seen very many pointed hats. They send the invitations. They host the party in their flat and clean up afterward. It's a lot of extra work to be the birthday kid, to say the least. So much so, that my father-in-law often plans his vacation around his own birthday.

My sister teaches English in Spain, and she says the Spanish are the same way. She pointed out to me that this relieves the social pressure of wondering whether or not friends would remember your birthday. On her birthday, she brought in her own plate of American brownies to share with her class and bought the coffee for her teacher friends at the cafe where they take their (considerably long) breaks. Everyone was delighted. Even though she initiated, she bathed smiling in all the birthday love.

We'll see how it goes on my birthday (located on the other side of the year). I'm not fan of social tension, much less the feeling you get if the big day passes unnoticed, but hey, I like being treated as a king, and I don't want to spend my birthday preparing like Martha Stewart. One thing I can count on, of course: The birthday package from mom.