Evan’s birthday was Friday. When we visited Evan’s parents over Labor Day weekend, Evan’s mom kept saying “29?! 29?! Evan…you’re 29?!” For some reason the idea that Evan was 29 (although he was actually 28 when she was reiterating this fact) seemed to bewilder his mother. The fact that we were 19?!, 19?! when we were first together is the more baffling fact to me. I feel like we’ve earned our age. I do , however, love the fact that Evan is fifty-three days older than me, and thus has to get old before me every year.
To celebrate Evan’s last year as a twenty-something, we went to see Paul Simon at the Berkeley Greek Theatre on Friday night. Despite owning his concert cds, neither of us had actually seen him live. The concert was a delight. He did a beautiful job of arranging the music so that songs, which were old favorites, were given new life. My favorite moment was when, about halfway through the song “Me and Julio down by the schoolyard,” a bunch of the previously seated audience members ran up to the front of the stage and started dancing. Few things make me smile bigger than spontaneous dancing.
For the past few days Evan has been singing “Who’s gonna love you when your looks are gone?” almost perpetually. It’s probably because the song is quite catchy, but just in case, I’m glad I’m fifty-three days younger.