Today is Super Bowl Sunday…for most of us.
For me, it is just another Sunday. Actually, this date is a historic one normally marked annually by some magical event that occurred at dawn on this date 48 years ago.
Somewhere along the Ventura Freeway at a hospital on Balboa Boulevard in Encino, California, a baby boy was born to a Barbara Jean Stern and her husband Sheldon. He was a healthy infant – a bit chubby, but no signs of immediate health issues. They brought him home…and the rest is, well, history.
There is a tinge of embarrassment in telling this story. I'm getting to an age where birthdays become somewhat meaningless. Don't get me wrong, I have no qualms about celebrating it. It's just that it doesn’t have the cache as it once had.
Of course, I'll say this now and my 50th comes up in two years…black balloons, coffin cakes and all.
I still believe in trying to do something special on this day.