A Date to Remember

Written by: Bob Rehak
Edited by: Sharon Estill
Joboja Staff Writers

Carrot Top turned 41 on Monday.

I’m sure that you felt a myriad of emotions when you read that news. Some of you were shocked to see his name in print, for any reason. Ever. Some of you were surprised that he was that old.

If Monday was your birthday, you were surprised to learn you share your birthday with a 41-year-old man whose legal name belongs in a Veggie-tales movie. If you just found out that you share your special day with Scott Thompson, aka “Carrot Top,” I’m sure that you are quick to add Jim Backus (Thurston Howell III from “Gilligan’s Island”) and actress Tea Leoni to the list recited to family and friends. Sure, one’s been dead since 1989 and the other’s career has been dead since 1999, but they take the sting out of that whole Carrot Top association, don’t you think?

If February 25^th was your birthday you also share your cake with Oliver and James Phelps, aka Fred and George Weasly of “Harry Potter” movie fame. Sorry, that’s all I have for you at this time. February 25^th just wasn’t that big for celebrity births.

Everyone associates their birthdays with a celebrity or two, and I think it’s funny that people are always shocked when they find out who their birthday buddies are. “Hey! Look at THAT! Albert Einstein was born on MY birthday! Woo-hoo!”

If you want to know who had the good fortune to be born the same day of the year as you, check out www.star-daze.com.

I’m not sure why it’s so shocking to learn who else was born on your birthday. After all, everyone has a birthday, even celebrities. They also have laundry, cavities in their mouths, favorite jeans, leftovers in the fridge and bills next to the phone. They just have way BETTER laundry, cavities, jeans, leftovers and bills next to the phone (they also have much better phones).

We tend to take more pride in our association with the ‘good’ celebrities who share our birthdays. Were you born on May 29? Congratulations, you share your day with John F. Kennedy. But chances are you’ve been telling people that ever since you first found out, as if by association you share more than just that 1-in-366 chance of having been born on the same day. As if you share some kind of “birthday genetics."

Conversely, if you were born on April 20, you most likely try to ignore the fact that Adolf Hitler donned a party hat on that same date several times in his wretched life. Your birthday also has the stain of Columbine on it.

If you were born on December 7, you know better than anyone else what happened on that date in 1941.

Sometimes your birthday has nothing to do with the Zodiac or history. Sometimes it’s just that your Mom couldn’t hold back any longer. Celebrity birthdays and key dates in history are all just happenstance when it comes to your birthday. Your birthday has nothing to do with who you are or how your life turned out. Your birthday was a random roll of the dice.

My birthday is different, of course. It’s coming up this Sunday, and I have known for a very long time that I share my date on the calendar with Dr. Seuss, which gave me just about the best birthday genetics you could ever get. After all, who doesn’t love Dr. Seuss? March 2^nd is also a very musical date. I share my birthday with Jon Bon Jovi. Eddie Money and Desi Arnaz.

All of those celebrities are enviable, I know, and at first glance it would seem that I should be happy with all that good fortune, but Dr. Seuss and his band have nothing to do with making mine the best birth date ever.
Because of my birth date, I found the love of my life.

I was always shy, and when I was 17, I started the best job I ever had, delivering pizzas for a local restaurant. My wife, Sheri, worked in the back room, answering the phones. I would make excuses to spend time in the phone room with her, often at the expense of our customers’ orders. If your pizza seemed a little colder than it did the week before, Sheri was probably working that night. Sorry, but I was smitten.

At the end of the night I would pace myself just right, so that she’d be putting on her coat just as I was cashing out the night’s receipts. (I use the same method now to catch her coming down the hall at home. I’m still smitten.)

I would ask her if she needed a ride home. At first, someone would always come to pick her up, or her sister’s boyfriend would give her a ride home. (He also worked at the restaurant as a delivery driver, but I was younger and faster and earned better tips. It’s a delivery guy thing.)

Finally, after 42 pace-exits, Sheri got the hint and allowed me to give her a ride home. I probably could have saved a lot of effort if I had just slipped her sister’s boyfriend $5 to beat it, but I was saving for college.

Anyway, I finally got to drive her home—very slowly—and we talked about more than just pizza sauce and shredded mozzarella. I ran out of topics after the weather and the Cubs, so I asked her when her birthday was. She said March 2^nd,. The same date as mine. I thought she was pulling my leg, so I asked to see her driver’s license, and there it was. Kismet. The same birthday, one year younger. My smitten-ness doubled. The stars were aligned forever. Our rides home became more frequent until they were just a given.

I don’t know if it was my charming Seuss-ness or the intoxicating smell of pizza emanating throughout my Mustang that turned her head around, but she finally agreed to go out on a date with me. Three years later, we were married.

Sharing your birthday with a celebrity is coincidental, amusing and part of your own personal trivia. Sharing it with the love of your life is magical.