We are all 50 together. Forever!

Now that the Canadian federal election is over and we’ve wiped the rabid foam off our television and computer screens, we can all stop pretending we know what we’re talking about and get back to what’s really important in this country: my birthday.

There is barely a month left, and we all know how time flies when you’re having fungus professionally removed from your basement. (Remember: November is National Mould Removal Month, with this year’s theme “Check Your Spouse for Spores!” Look for Neil Young as the campaign spokesperson singing the promotional ad, “Mould Man, Look at My Wife.”)

After such a long and divisive campaign, my 50th birthday is exactly the unifying farce this country needs.

Oh, it’s not for me. If I had my way, I would turn 50 all alone in a dark, cold room with a bowl of vanilla pudding and a thick book by Jonathan Franzen to yell at (“If you can’t write about sex properly, don’t write about sex at all!”), you know, like every other day. I’m a bit of a shrinking violet, really, mostly because I don’t get enough calcium. The doctor warned me I was going to get smaller and smaller. That was his osteoprognosis.

Where was I?

Oh, my birthday! Yes, you see, Canada is back to feeling good again. We’re a giving country again. So I think my 50th birthday could make the country feel good about giving me gfts. Gifts, cash, bottles of Beaujolais Nouveau – it’s really a win-wine situation.

But it’s not all fun and games and the brand new Guitar Hero. This is work – mostly for my wife. But also for me because, you see, I’m a role model. Once I sat for a photo shoot with people dressed up as side dishes and I was a dinner roll model, but that’s a story for another time.

imageIt all goes back to 1984, when I accepted the honour of being class valedictorian at Antigonish Regional High School. There was much more to it than blue polyester gowns and quotes randomly pulled out of Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations, for on that day I made a solemn oath to live up to the motto printed on the cover of our yearbook: “Together Forever.” Forever, people! Even when we turn 50! We are in this together!

And to Cindy, who in her yearbook autograph bet that at university I would have all the girls chasing me: correct.

It’s up to me to prove to my classmates, who are likewise turning 50 or have already done so, that we are still vital, that we are anything but over the hill, that, honest, the girls were chasing me all over the place. I have photos.

Sure, the best time of the day is sweatpants time, and your social ambitions are in a constant battle with inertia and chocolate, and you spend too much time worrying about insurance and slipping in the shower, and you don’t understand why your kids giggle when you say “Netflix and chill,” which was something you heard somewhere so you repeated it because, dammit, you’re still hip, and you have a hard time focussing.

Speaking of hip, did you see that Bloom County is back?

What were we talking about?

Right: turning 50. My point. My point? My point is this national celebration would not simply be for me turning 50 but for all of us turning 50. Except mostly me. Together Forever!

So for the good of the country, for the good of a very specific demographic, for the good of me being the centre of attention, I hope you will all come together to join me watching you do all the work to make this a birthday that we – but again, mostly I – will remember.

The only thing I ask is that this not turn out to be like my 40th birthday. It was a good time and all, and I truly appreciated the subscription to Penguin-Of-The-Month™, but the local water supply is only just now becoming drinkable again.

Come on, Canada. Don’t be so selfish! It’s the least you can do for electing a prime minister younger than me, because that has totally weirded me out.

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About rossmurray1

I'm Canadian so I pronounce it "Aboot." No, I don't! I don't know any Canadian who says "aboot." Damnable lies! But I do know this Canadian is all about humour (with a U) and satire. Come by. I don't bite, or as we Canadians say, "beet."
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60 Responses to We are all 50 together. Forever!

  1. Ned's Blog says:

    Yes! Together is the only way to get through this! I’m behind you all the way! Literally, by nine months. Hey, I guess we know what my parents were doing sometime around your birthday!
    Ewwwwww.
    Sorry.

  2. I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that party….your 50th, not what Ned’s parents were doing…..oh never mind!!

  3. Paul says:

    Happy Birthday Ross! At my 50th I sat with a bottle of Glenfiddich 12 yr old scotch and tried to decide what I was going to do with the next 50 years of my life – I’m optimistic.

    As far as the PM being younger than you – haven’t you noticed? the cops are younger, the doctors are younger, the nurses (God bless their souls and other parts) are younger, the astronauts are younger, etc. I think the whole world is getting younger except us – it’s a conspiracy! Drink up and may your next 50 be filled with health happiness and prosperity. (P.S. I read an article done on the large number of centenarians in Georgia, (old Soviet Union). They were interviewing and one gentleman who at 105 grew his own food, lived alone, walked everywhere, was asked the secret, His reply was: “Drink whisky and chase women.” Ha!)

  4. Corinne Smith says:

    Happy 50th from the left coast! I’m also right behind you – turning 50 in February. Isn’t 50 the new 30?

    Corinne

  5. Karen says:

    I have a birthday coming up as well (November 16. I’m hoping for lots of tasteful, yet expensive, gifts) and I can’t bring myself to get as excited about it as you (apparently) are. The other day my daughter–who is seven, and gets as excited about birthdays as 50 year old men–came tearing down the stairs shouting, “Mommy! Mommy!” and when I asked her what was wrong she said excitedly, “It’s one month until your birthday!”

    Ah, youth.

  6. Carrie Rubin says:

    You know what turning 50 means? Time for the black snake, AKA the screening colonoscopy. Sorry. This is how my mind is trained to think. That’s also why I laughed out loud at the word “osteoprognosis.”

  7. I just love your stuff Rosemary! Happy ALMOST 50th Birthday! Remember, you never know when you’re middle age until you die, then you divide it in half. Whoo hoo! I laughed good and hard – and thank god Canada can get back to the business of getting you a FUNICULAR for your Garbutstag. Rosemary Funicular – it’s all the rage. Or it gives you rage – or mould…. whatever.

    And I have seen Neil Young, up close and personal, years ago, and now I know what his “Canada Loves Rosemary” button means 🙂 It ALL makes sense. Just like when I finally read “Brave New World” and a million literary references suddenly fell into place. It was JUST. LIKE. THAT…

    And where was I? Oh yeah, Happy Birthday, Ross.

  8. BuntyMcC says:

    Happy birthday, Ross. Eat cake. Don’t read Purity (in case that wasn’t the one you were yelling at) because you’d yell at it too.

  9. List of X says:

    For someone whose graduation year was 1984, it seems appropriate that for your birthday, you’re getting a reprieve from a 1984ish Harper.

  10. ksbeth says:

    if it makes you feel any better, i’m still older than you. and your new prime minister is hot. happy birthday, ross.

  11. That was a long road to that Neil Young punchline but it was totally WORTH IT.

    You’re brave. I would never reveal my age in public. That’s my thing. Some folks smoke. Some watch reality TV. I’m hung up on my age. So sue me.

  12. Happy Birthday, Ross! Canada is lucky to have you as the ageless face unifying the nation. 😉

  13. TheLastWord says:

    Happy Birthday! Am I late? Well, I had to take care of a few things, like getting Justin installed 🙂 and taking care of my new nose.

    I tried going one better by having a complete BirthMonth Festival… http://wp.me/p2KTFQ-1ji

    Needless to say, it generated a lot of promises, but only one of the bands showed up. So I’m chalking that up as a success and am planning next years Festival. Promises to be bigger and better ….

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