happy birthday to me

If I were a Hobbit, and there are those who see me as being quite Hobbitish, today would be nothing special.

Hobbits consider "rhyming birthdays" to be most important. Like Bilbo's 111th (his "eleventy first") and Frodo's 33rd (when he came of age) celebrated on the same day.

I have certain Hobbitish features, but I live in a culture where the Big Days end in "0," (with the odd "8," "1," and "5" thrown in to spice the stew's monotony).

Today I enter my eighth decade. That should be something to celebrate because it has been a fun run.

But my biggest celebration for the day will be finally getting around to paying my annual Mexican living dues -- for the privilege of living in this intoxicating beautiful land. There are fees to pay for car registration, property tax, postal box rental, and garbage, water, and sewer. None will set me back anywhere near what they would cost up north.

And I enjoy paying them. Rather, I enjoy the journey to pay them. I need to drive to Cihuatlán, our county seat, to take care of the car registration and property tax. Then to San Patricio for the postal box. The sewer, water, and garbage I can pay in one place at the local government office in Barra de Navidad.
I look forward to this each year because I get to talk with some familiar faces behind the respective desks and to meet new people waiting in line for their turns. It brings back a lot of those feelings of civic pride that accompanied voting before the days of mail-in ballots where the only relational moment is sticking a stamp on the envelope.

What could be better than my tasks to celebrate a landmark birthday?

But there is more. At the end of the day, I will walk down the street to the home of my friends Lou and Wynn. We will then take an evening stroll to one of the restaurants on Barra de Navidad's laguna.

Friends and food. A Hobbit could appreciate such an evening.