Final Birthday Stories
Karl's Blog. Stardate Blah Blah Blah,
I'm gonna be focused this time around and just post about my last b-day stories. I've overindulged in my epic posts. So I'll try to be more concise.
Anyway the final 2 stories will revolve around my family and not my friends. My friends throw me birthday celebrations every now and then because they know I don't like parties that are for me. As for my family, while their hearts maybe in the right place, I usually resent them and hate myself more than I usually do. The first story will be about my last epic family birthday party for me. The latter story will be about the one birthday dinner with my family in that post period that seemed "special" and to this day remains a happy memory.
13
The age of thirteen is quite a transitional phase. One is nolonger a child. However, still not an adult. Merely caught in that awkward stage of teenhood. To celebrate my parents booked the Thompson Community Center in Richmond as the venue for that evenings festivities. Invited were the Barcada, family, and friends of the family. There was a lot of food and people strewn around this banquet. To get a visual image go watch "The Debut". It's quite similar, except without the dancing and singing. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Everyone that was except for me. I spent most of the time not allowed to play with the other kids because I was forced to wear "good" clothes. So to pass the time I avoided people and listened to my handy walkman attempting to find the right frequency for Coast 1040. Back then the station was a Mecca for underground music.
Amidst this spectacle, I saw everything that I hated about birthday parties. Of all the people, the one person who should have a good time should be a celebrant. The celebrant should not have to feel like a trophy for one's parents to be placed upon display. In my case, a trophy that always felt was not up to snuff and a perpetual disappointment to his dad. A feeling that persists to this day.
After the party was over and everything was packed away I told my parents to never throw me a party ever again. If they want a special dinner, then fine. But, I NEVER wanted a grand epic scale birthday party ever again. They were happy to comply since it saved them a lot of money to do so. We made a mutual arrangement.
Sure there would be family dinners, but, I only had to make some face time and then locked myself in my room to study. Especially, since my birthday has now become an excuse for my father to invite "his" friends over to drink.
'50s Style Burger & Soda Joint
Sometime in highschool my family uprooted from Richmond to East Vancouver. During this time my mother would undergo a series of medical conditions. At first she endured kidney stones and then later on she contracted cancer. My routine would be to wait for my dad to pick me up after football/basketball practice and we would visit my mom in the cancer ward over at Vancouver General Hospital.
One of these days happened to be my birthday. After we (my father, brother, and I) left my mother's side, we decided to go to a restaurant near the hospital. The lot where it used to lay is now vacant, but, back then along Broadway and a few blocks east of Oak was 1950's style burger joint. It was like stepping into the diner from "Back To Future" and that door was the flux capacitor. Everything about the place was magical. They made my brother wear a dunce cap since he could not finish all of his milkshake. I even got a slice of cake while the staff sang Happy Birthday to me. The only thing that would have made that moment better was if my mother was present.
---------------------------------------------------------
So there, no more birthday recaps and what-not until next year.
Later Days.
End Transmission.
I'm gonna be focused this time around and just post about my last b-day stories. I've overindulged in my epic posts. So I'll try to be more concise.
Anyway the final 2 stories will revolve around my family and not my friends. My friends throw me birthday celebrations every now and then because they know I don't like parties that are for me. As for my family, while their hearts maybe in the right place, I usually resent them and hate myself more than I usually do. The first story will be about my last epic family birthday party for me. The latter story will be about the one birthday dinner with my family in that post period that seemed "special" and to this day remains a happy memory.
13
The age of thirteen is quite a transitional phase. One is nolonger a child. However, still not an adult. Merely caught in that awkward stage of teenhood. To celebrate my parents booked the Thompson Community Center in Richmond as the venue for that evenings festivities. Invited were the Barcada, family, and friends of the family. There was a lot of food and people strewn around this banquet. To get a visual image go watch "The Debut". It's quite similar, except without the dancing and singing. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Everyone that was except for me. I spent most of the time not allowed to play with the other kids because I was forced to wear "good" clothes. So to pass the time I avoided people and listened to my handy walkman attempting to find the right frequency for Coast 1040. Back then the station was a Mecca for underground music.
Amidst this spectacle, I saw everything that I hated about birthday parties. Of all the people, the one person who should have a good time should be a celebrant. The celebrant should not have to feel like a trophy for one's parents to be placed upon display. In my case, a trophy that always felt was not up to snuff and a perpetual disappointment to his dad. A feeling that persists to this day.
After the party was over and everything was packed away I told my parents to never throw me a party ever again. If they want a special dinner, then fine. But, I NEVER wanted a grand epic scale birthday party ever again. They were happy to comply since it saved them a lot of money to do so. We made a mutual arrangement.
Sure there would be family dinners, but, I only had to make some face time and then locked myself in my room to study. Especially, since my birthday has now become an excuse for my father to invite "his" friends over to drink.
'50s Style Burger & Soda Joint
Sometime in highschool my family uprooted from Richmond to East Vancouver. During this time my mother would undergo a series of medical conditions. At first she endured kidney stones and then later on she contracted cancer. My routine would be to wait for my dad to pick me up after football/basketball practice and we would visit my mom in the cancer ward over at Vancouver General Hospital.
One of these days happened to be my birthday. After we (my father, brother, and I) left my mother's side, we decided to go to a restaurant near the hospital. The lot where it used to lay is now vacant, but, back then along Broadway and a few blocks east of Oak was 1950's style burger joint. It was like stepping into the diner from "Back To Future" and that door was the flux capacitor. Everything about the place was magical. They made my brother wear a dunce cap since he could not finish all of his milkshake. I even got a slice of cake while the staff sang Happy Birthday to me. The only thing that would have made that moment better was if my mother was present.
---------------------------------------------------------
So there, no more birthday recaps and what-not until next year.
Later Days.
End Transmission.
posted by Shockah Karl at 2:12 p.m.
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