Sixty-eight has a good feel to it to me.

I’m 68 years old today. Well, if you believe the state’s official records, and Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad claim they were there. But you know, parents tell stories. Like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, or that they walked ten miles through snow uphill to get to school every day. Who can believe them?

My phone and computer has been pinging with birthday wishes from friends around the world. That really makes my heart swell three times its normal size.

I’ve been looking forward to becoming sixty-eight. It’s because of cars. See, in 1968, when I was twelve, cars excited and interested me. At one point, I thought I’d become an adult and design cars. I drew them all the time. ’68 was the year I saw sporty performance Mustangs and Camaros, along with an actual XK-E Jaguar that someone parked in a neighbor’s driveway. So cool!

So 68 has a good feel for me. It’s exciting, full of energy and promise. I hope I can sustain that across 365 days, because I’m getting pretty excited about becoming 69. Wait till I tell you about it.