A BIRTHDAY PARTY AT THE CITIZEN HOTEL

Last night we went to a very low key birthday party for our friend Ketil who is just turning 50. In other words, a young whippersnapper who only thinks he’s old because he’s reached the half century mark.
In the past couple of years he’s been working pretty hard getting into shape – bikes 25 miles every day, doesn’t drink anymore, eats no desserts, and hardly any meat. In other words, he’s being really kind to his body. So he’ll probably be alive in 50 years. I’m glad I got to go to this one, though, because I certainly won’t be around for the 100th.

I decided to write him a letter, just a little bit snarky, and when I was cruising the web looking for things that he might be around for, I discovered that Haley’s comet will be back in July 2061 (in which case he’d be 100). Also, if he makes it to 100, he’ll be around for the 200th anniversary of the start of the US Civil War. But he’ll miss the Tricentennial. Hope he was paying attention at the Bicentennial.

In writing the letter, I realized that he is this adult who I consider kind of a contemporary, and yet, he has no recollection of where he was when JFK was shot!! For his generation, that touchstone event is when the Challenger blew up. I also discovered in my in depth research that the year he was born Pampers came on the market and so did birth control pills. I thought that was worth a chuckle.

Anyway, it was low key in that it was snacks and a little wine and just a few friends. On the other hand, Lorna had rented a penthouse suite at the top of the Citizen Hotel, which is a newly refurbished old hotel in town. From the balcony, you can see all over Sacramento. It was absolutely fabulous. It was very hot at street level, but quite lovely up at the top. It turns out that all the women invited actually wore dresses – something you almost never see in Sacramento, and we spent the evening looking pregnant, or in my case, since I had on a white dress that had a number of horizontal seams, the Michelin Man. I had more fantasized that I’d look like Marilyn Monroe over the subway. Unfortunately, we never got a picture of me -- or perhaps that was fortunate.



The birthday boy did blow out the candles on a lovely berry tart, and probably had his first dessert in a year. It was a grand time.