Rant #160: 50 Is Today's 30

I'm back from the Christmas holiday ... probably a few pounds heavier, but still living large.

I had a few days off from work, and my family and I had a pretty good few days.

Some of the highlights were that we went to the movies--my son wanted to see the new "Chipmunks" movie, and yes, it was pretty dreadful--and I also spoke to a long-lost friend who I hadn't spoken to in probably nearly 40 years. I also will speak to a different long-lost friend who contacted me over the holiday weekend, and will do so later this week.

Also, on December 26, my sister turned 50.

My sister just missed being born on Christmas, which for our family, would not have been that big of a deal, because we are Jewish. But just the same, she was born on Boxing Day, which I know is a big deal in England. You take any gifts that you received that you don't want and give them to the needy.

She was also born on the first day of Kwaanza, which is another story altogether.

But in 1959, my mother gave birth to my sister. If I remember the story correctly, she was a breach baby, but the delivery went very well. My father was relieved that my mom and the baby were fine, but he has often said that he also thanked both of them for having the delivery when it happened, because it helped his taxes for that year.

Through the years, my sister and I have had a typical older brother/younger sister relationship. We hated each other at the same time that we loved each other, and we always looked out for each other no matter the situation.

For the first years of our lives, we actually shared a room. It is hard enough for a boy to share a room with his brother, but it is even harder for a brother and sister to share a room, especially as they get older. We had a divider in the room, so her side was as well defined as my side. As we approached our teenage years, our sides became even more defined: I had pictures all over the place of my sports heroes on my side of the room, she had David Cassidy plastered all over the place on her side.

I used to love to scare her. When she went to bed, I would hide behind the curtain and go "Boo!" and she would jump!

As we got older, my mother wouldn't even let me dress in the same room as my sister. When we got dressed for school, she dressed in her room, and my mother took my clothes into her bedroom, and that is where I dressed.

I had friends who my sister probably would have dated if we didn't move to the suburbs when we were of dating age; she also had a lot of friends, but I really never liked any of them. I dated one once, and it didn't work out, which hurt me then, but looking back, shouldn't have really surprised me.

Well, now my sister is a respected member of the community. She has three boys, is married to a great guy with an excellent job, has a great job herself, and she lives in a house in suburbia. What more can you ask for?

We had a little party for her yesterday, and she seems very happy. She had a health scare that was taken care of a few weeks ago, and she now seems as chipper as ever.

I am happy for her, and happy for our parents, who are alive and well and can say that they have two 50-year-old kids. How many people can say that?

And yes, I love my sister. She is a good person, with a good family. We are as different in many respects as two siblings can be, but we do share the same values.

Here's for the next 50! And remember, 50 is today's 30, so who knows how many more birthday celebrations she (and me) will have before we are done!