(Icebow at Barrow, AK, America’s northernmost city, north of the Arctic Circle and the same temperature as Blue Arlington this morning. Photo Wikipedia).

You say it’s your birthday
It’s my birthday too, yeah
They say it’s your birthday
We’re gonna have a good time
I’m glad it’s your birthday
Happy birthday to you.

Yes we’re going to a party party
Yes we’re going to a party party
Yes we’re going to a party party

– – Writers: John Winston Lennon and Paul James McCartney. Courtesy Sony/ATV Music Publishing

OK, OK. Weather is not climate. We all know that. The fact that the view from my window resembles Barrow, Alaska, the northernmost American city, is besides the point. Looking out the window of the apartment, the snow is blown into sculpted aerodynamic shapes across the pavement and the cars and the shrubs by the cutting wind. The wind chill spawned by the Polar Vortex this morning was fifteen below zero. The folks marching resolutely up the partially-cleared sidewalks and across the salted parking lot in the packed snow toward the Guard Bureau look exactly like Inupiat locals from Barrow.

Still, climate is the average of weather, over time, and these little incursions of pure cold dense arctic air are- well, breathtaking.

This morning, our temperatures were about the same between Barrow and Arlington, and I can safely say that we were both blue, though not for the usual reason.

I know this is not Alaska, and at some point the weather is going to get with the program and this stuff will melt. Hopefully Barrow won’t, at least not before it is High Summer north of the Circle, and we will just have to take the averages as they come. It does occur to me that we have had a temperature swing in the last day or so of almost 50 degrees, and despite some irritated squirrels and people, everyone is doing just fine.

When someone tells you that a couple hundredths of a degree of temperature difference is an impending catastrophe, well, I don’t know. Things have not gotten any warmer since 1998, according to the data-sets of the scientists. I am not completely certain the surface temperature can be accurately measured to that level of granularity anyway, given the tinkering with the historical record. Oh well, I am just going to bundle up and hope for warmth.

In the midst of growing cabin fever yesterday, I let my mind wander. I found that small measures of whiskey taken internally helped beat back the lassitude of enforced lassitude as the snow blew by the dining room window horizontally. I thought more about the gentle mauka winds and makai rainbows the color of shave ice, not ones made simply of ice.

I know precisely what I was doing 29 years ago today, and 31 years ago tomorrow. And I remember where. Biggest two days of my life- birthdays, in fact.

This was not supposed to be a birthday- that was not in the master plan. But one thing happened late in the afternoon, and that led to another thing, and then a short drive down the Nimitz Highway to the Queen’s Medical Center, founded by Queen Emma and King Kamehameha IV.

Then there we were, having a baby. Well, someone was. I was purely along for the ride, or rather just to do the driving and handle the bags. It was a curious thing- I remember the Doc looking up at the clock and it was approaching midnight. He asked if we wanted the kids to have the same birthday. We consulted briefly, and said “Heck, no! They ought to have their own!”

So, he worked a little faster, and our younger son was born just before the change of the day. There were many more adventures that shortly followed, but on this magical day, I was a father for the second time, and blessed to be.

The problem I had for a couple years after was that the younger son had the first birthday. Once I figured that one out, it was easy. The older boy was born on the 23rd of January, a Saturday, if I recall, and that was one for the ages. It was up in the pineapple fields of Wahiawa, not far from Field Station Kunia in central O’ahu.

I wrote down the details of both those events so I would never forget, and though the stories have been lost, the act of writing them seared the details into my brain. I will never forget a second of either one.

With those two birthdays, everything in my life changed. I have to say, these two days are about as good as it gets. All I have to remember is the younger is first, and the older is second.

And the smell of the flowers and the rich volcanic soil of the friendly islands. And what a miracle it all was. Twenty-nine years ago today. Thirty-one tomorrow.

Happy Birthdays!

(The only things that actually meant anything in my life, posing onboard USS Forrestal (CV-59). Photo Socotra).

Copyright 2014 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303