Tom Farrar, devishly handsome in his double-breasted blazer, is also celebrating his birthday today.  He is turning 82.  As we are new friends, I take this shared date to strike up a conversation with Tom.  I wonder – what was New Zealand like when he was my age?  Eighty-two seems like a lot of years.  What has he learned in all his time? 

 “Cigarettes and silk stockings.  If you could give a woman silk stockings, you were in.  She’d love you.”  In the 40s and 50s, Wellington was a one-horse town he tells me. The story goes a marine was walking down Lambton Quay and Willis, confused.  “When do you come to the city?” he wondered.


"There were two restaurants in Wellington.  We had milk bars where you could get shakes and ice creams.  Alcohol stopped being served at 6 pm, so men would rush to the hotel bar right before cut off and drink as much as possible.  It was called the six o’clock swill.”  The six o’clock swill?  Sounds like my flat mates every Wednesday night.  Or afterwork on the hill.  Maybe times haven't changed that much after all.

On the eve of my 25th birthday, I’m lost in thought.  What have I learned in these years?  What has Tom learned?  And have we – so far apart in space and time – come to any of the same conclusions?  “Travel.  A lot” he says.  "Do it young.  It will change your life, your perspective, and your relationships. Education is hugely important.  It has the power to change your life completely.”  Another check.  “Don’t try and give advice to your kids about how grandchildren should be handled.” I think I’ve got a while to worry about that, but I’ll file it away nonetheless. 

I walk home from our Rotary meeting carrying Tom’s words, and wondering what he'd say if I actually gave him time to reflect on his years.  What has fifty years of marriage taught him?  Maybe I'll corner him another time on that subject.  If someone were to ask me what I’ve learned, how would I answer them?  

While sitting in my Development Policy paper, I make a list – twenty-five lessons for twenty-five years.  When I lay my head down to sleep, the gears in my mind keep turning, forcing me to get back to my computer and write.  I'm not sure what other lessons are headed my way in life, but I can only hope I learn them in such a blazing and wonderful set of years as the last 24 have been.  How will I ever be able to top them?  Some might feel regret at all the should have and would haves behind them.  Not me.  I'm happy, fulfilled, and ready to mold the next 25 into something even greater.  I wonder, is it even possible?

I’m not sure what Tom would have to say about this list, but I hope he thinks I’m on the right track.  

I’ve never had a birthday quite like this one.  I’m absolutely amazed by the friends I’ve made here – how every single one has something inside of them that absolutely radiates.  Like sunshine, they’ve brightened my birthday in New Zealand.  

Birthday Eve started with a birthday song serenade from twenty wonderful ladies and gentlemen from Wellington South.  Next came a team Alaska versus Arkansas jenga tournament win ($100 bar tab yeyeaaaaaaa!!), followed by some birthday cake shots (and maybe some tequila shots) at my favorite bar. http://www.thecross.co.nz/


On the morning of the 31st, I woke up to a cloudless sky and sunshine.  I swooped Kaitlin up for a walk into town - an apple turnover at Le Moulin and a walk through the always impressive Moore Wilson's (Whole Foods on crack).  Next it was back to school for presentation prep at which point myself and my lecturer dressed up as  "goodwill fairys" and tip toed around the classroom (throwing candy and dancing like fools).  After the presentation ended, the entire class sang Happy Birthday.  There I was, covered in glitter with a magic wand, angel wings, and a tiara on my head thinking "I'm in the right place."  A dinner of fajitas, cake, movies, and margaritas was the cherry on top of this wonderful day - with the most wonderful people in the most wonderful place.  Thank you everyone for making me feel so special.  

I’ve been in the business of gleaning lately – gathering wisdom from the young and old is my mission.  Something about this 25th birthday has made me very introspective.  While sitting at a lunch table with some stately older gentleman on Wednesday, I peppered them with questions about life and love.  Here’s what they had to say.

“Well if you think about it, you’ve probably lived more than ¼ of your life.  Most people don’t live to 100.  Think about that.”

“How did I know she was the one?  She drove me damn crazy that’s how.”

“Why should we be gentlemen?!  You girls want it all.  You want all this independence AND you want us to open doors.  I opened the door for a lady with an armful of parcels one day.  She looked right at me and said WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! So I dropped that door and let it slam on her.  She dropped the parcels.  Never again will I open a door for a lady!” - I can't even talk about it.

“Who says there aren’t gentlemen in New Zealand?  I open the door for my wife when we’re goin to unfamiliar places.  That way I can check to make sure everything is safe.”  Just thinking out loud here, but doesn’t that mean she walks in before you??

Maybe these little nuggets weren't exactly what I was aiming for, but they certainly brought some laughs into my Wednesday.  Later, a baritone “happy birthday” was a fantastic way to start my birthday eve.