When I'm 64

When I get older losing my hair 

Many years from now 

Will you still be sending me a Valentine 

Birthday greetings bottle of wine? 

- Lennon-McCartney 

The longer thou livest, the more fool thou. 

- William Wager 

Now I’m 64. Paul McCartney was 64 in 2006. He’ll be 80 on June 18. Also born on May 16 were Henry Fonda in 1905, Liberace in 1919, and Pierce Brosnan in 1953. He’s 69 today, a very nice number. And Debra Winger, born on this day in 1955, is 67. 

On this day: in 1763 Samuel Johnson first met James Boswell. In 1866 root beer was invented by Charles Hires. In 1902 two deaf-mutes faced off for the first time in baseball history as Dummy Hoy of the Reds batted against Dummy Taylor (these were their professional names) of the Giants. The Reds won 5-3. And in 1927 the US Supreme Court ruled that bootleggers had to pay income tax. 

Also on this day in 1955 one of my heroes, James Agee was on his way to a doctor's appointment in a taxi in New York City when he died of a heart attack. He was just 45. 

In observance of my birthday, I took my companion to a restaurant in the nearby town – only because it had air conditioning, which is always a treat for someone in the tropics who has to live without it. She ordered chop suey and I ordered “spicy buffalo” – which was quite unspicy chicken wings in sweet & sour sauce. I also got an order of fries. (The waitress behind her mask was almost incomprehensible.) 

My companion took some selfies because she was wearing a nice dress and her costume jewelry. Then I reminded her that it was my day and she took some photos of us together. [see above] I got away with spending only about $12 for the two of us. Funny that the birthday boy was the one paying, but it’s always like that. I wanted to get ice cream but she told me that our freezer is packed with eight kilos of pork. 

We got home before 4. She changed clothes and attended to doing the laundry. I relaxed in my sala alone. I made it clear to her many years ago that I don’t want a cake or candles on my birthday and I hope I never hear that goddam birthday song ever again. But she doesn’t know that I didn’t mean it – not really. The day isn’t over just yet. She could still surprise me, but I don’t expect she ever will. 

I don’t want to be here for another birthday. I want to be somewhere Stateside for my 65th. 

One more person born on this day was Adrienne Rich in 1929. 

What Kind of Times Are These 

BY ADRIENNE RICH 

There's a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill 

and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows 

near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted 

who disappeared into those shadows. 

I've walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don't be fooled 

this isn't a Russian poem, this is not somewhere else but here, 

our country moving closer to its own truth and dread, 

its own ways of making people disappear. 

I won't tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods 

meeting the unmarked strip of light— 

ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise: 

I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear. 

And I won't tell you where it is, so why do I tell you 

anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these 

to have you listen at all, it's necessary 

to talk about trees.