I know, this is a term usually reserved for a vessel that rarely ventures off the pier, but in this case, I’m claiming artistic license and I’m applying it to the Fleet Admiral.
See, she’s in the generation that was born a half-century ago this year, and so she, as well as many of her classmates from high school, have “special” birthdays this year. You know, the one that has two digits and starts with a 5. Yeah, that one.
Now it seems that one of her high school chums dreamed up a way to commemorate this series of birthdays that allows them to all participate in each other’s celebration through the year.
Janet attended high school in Massachusetts and we now live in Florida. Many of her classmates have likewise moved away, but girls being girls, they still find ways to be together for events such as these.
It’s kind of a neat idea I must admit, but for the life of me, I just cannot wrap my head around the thought of a bunch of guys doing anything similar.
What her friend did was, she went out and bought an expensive electric blue feather boa (I’m guessing she must have dropped at least seven bucks on this thing) and then she also bought a genuine imitation rhinestone plastic tiara with “Birthday Girl” spelled out in elegant block letters across the front.
So here’s the drill:
As each “special day” approaches, the boa and tiara are delivered carefully packaged in a ziplock bag to the home of the soon-to-be birthday girl.
The birthday girl has been instructed, via a series of emails from within the network, to don the boa and tiara in a public place of her choosing, and have a picture taken of her thus attired.
Now when I first heard this, I was really psyched, but then Janet explained that no, the boa and tiara are not the ONLY things they are supposed to wear for the photo op.
After the pictures are taken, the boa and tiara are to be again packaged with great care in the ziplock bag, and then are to be sent to the next “special birthday” girl on the list.
So, without further delay, I present to you my Fleet Admiral, bedecked in the regalia of the half-centurians.
Happy Birthday sweetie, and I hope the next half century is good to you.
And as a parting thought, I’ll tell all of you what I so frequently say to her…
Girls are weird.