The end of a fun tradition

I'm a little late posting my annual chart of the birthday messages I receive, which I've been doing annually for 13 years now. You may have noticed that in the past two years the posts have gotten a bit shorter, and I've stopped adding in new things to track. I think the novelty has worn off, and the humor that I derive so much self worth from the number of people that wish me happy birthday has been completely played out. I've also pretty much stopped using facebook, and one of the few things keeping me from deleting my account is this stupid tradition. So with that said, I think this will be the last time I make a post about the number of happy birthday messages I receive.

It was fun while it lasted, but here is what is very likely the last Birthday Messages chart I'll ever post.

Blogger's picture scaling sucks.

The biggest surprise in these numbers is that I've maintained a relative steady number of facebook friends.

For those wondering, I had a nice birthday. For breakfast we went to a pancake breakfast for the nearby fire department, for lunch I made Reubens on the flattop and for dinner we went to my favorite Japanese restaurant in Davis and then did brownies and ice cream back at our house for dessert. It was a nice way to head into year 36.

Thanks for following along with my weird birthday message obsession all these years. 

A certain feeling

It's 11:30 in the morning on a Friday. I'm in my mid-to-late 20s. As usual I had worked 9 hours on Monday through Thursday and now I only needed to put in 4 hours on Friday, and my 4 hours of drinking coffee and reading Michigan sports blogs was now up. I walk out the front door of my office on Naval Base San Diego, holding only my now empty to-go coffee mug as I stroll to my car. It's warm, sunny and there is slight breeze blowing the palm trees that line the streets along the base. I'm in khakis, a polo shirt and light blue Pumas.

I get into my black Camaro and immediately pop on my sunglasses and roll the windows down, my iPod connects and my music is playing. I drive off base and head home ready to make myself a nice sandwich and a wash it down with a cold Tecate. Weekend plans are minimal - a wide open two and a half days in gorgeous Southern California lie ahead of me. But more literally lying ahead of me is a nearly empty freeway ready to take me home.

This brief 15 minute trip home is one of the rare times I can expect there to be minimal traffic in San Diego. This is perfect as I briefly merge onto the 5 (I-5) shifting from third into forth gear, and then I immediately exit onto the 15 (I-15). I'm still baffled why people in Southern California use "the" in front of their highways instead of "I-" or "Interstate". Once I get on the 15 I can open it up into 5th gear and really get going, but I'm only on the 15 for about a mile before I have to take the ramp to get on the 94 that takes me to my exit. 

The Ramp - Notice the white car making use of the shoulder

The ramp onto the 94, like most interchanges in Southern California, is a bit tighter compared to what you typically see in the Midwest. Because of this, the two-lane ramp is heavily banked, and as you go through the ramp it also increases in elevation to bring you up to the grade of the 94 as the ramp spits you out.

My deepest respect for whoever designed this ramp

By the time I enter the ramp, I've already assessed if the traffic will cooperate. More often than not, it does, and I enter the ramp in the leftmost lane going about 80-85. As the banking starts I let my foot off the gas as I drift over into the right lane and eventually cross the solid white line until I'm fully on the apron at the apex of the curve. I let up on the steering as I begin to ride back up the banking of the curve and downshift to 4th gear. As this perfect arc of a curve approaches it's conclusion, the road begins to level out, and just as the turn is complete and I stomp on the gas and the engine in my Camaro roars at high RPMs effectively having been launched out of the ramp still going about 70, and accelerating towards my house and my weekend, as I drive with the windows down, sun overhead, music blaring and 3 cups of caffeine in my veins plus now just a bit of adrenaline.

And that, my friends, is a certain feeling.