They say it’s my birthday. Well, if you are reading this on Wednesday, it was yesterday.

So, what’s on my agenda? Well, after I type this column I have a little serenade in store from a beautiful woman from the top of a piano. Then I will go enjoy cocktails with the New York Yankees and then I will play a rousing game of peanuckle with J Lo. I go way back with ol’ J to tha Lo(I’m the one who called her that first you know).

Jealous? Yea, me too. Maybe this will be my 23rd birthday, but it certainly isn’t this year’s.

That’s right, it’s my 22nd birthday. My last big birthday accomplishment was celebrated last year, and now everyone is telling me that it is all downhill from here.

Rather than getting a big slap on the back followed by a pump fist and a congratulatory yell, now I have been getting a consoling pat on the back and an apology.

So, what a difference a year makes. I guess that this year June 18 didn’t land on the happiest day of my life, it landed on the saddest, or so I’m told.

Does that mean that with every passing birthday that I should drop my head and slap my dollars down for another shot of whiskey to catch my tears in? I don’t plan on living this sad of a scene, cowboy.

Alright, so it’s all downhill from here, I agree. But why does everyone have such a grim tone in their voice the dozens of times I’ve heard it said these past couple of weeks?

I like downhill slopes. They are easier to walk, as long as they aren’t too steep, then you can fall. They are a hell of a lot better than uphill slopes, you can’t deny that.

Alright, enough of the lesson in landscaping. Of course life is more than a couple catchy metaphors are useful in gripping what life means, right? Oh yea.

As life goes by a lot of thing change and one of those key elements is birthday celebrations. I’m sure you recall the ones your parents threw for you as a child. You and your friends celebrated being outside the confinements of school by guzzling mass amounts of punch, running around like the sugar junkies you were and still are, and then throwing up very bright red punch all over the girl in the pretty little dress. It was always that poor girl.

Now that was a party. Birthday parties today still include plenty of beverages and running around and puking, and that poor little girl is often still involved in the whole mess.

Alright, so yesterday was my 22nd birthday. Today I could be hurting from it, I really don’t know. Make sure you ask me and then shake your headbefore you spout out those words – it’s all downhill from here. There you go.