77
Men usually gauge their lives by the amount of years that their father lived. When they approach that number, they get uneasy and a bit uncomfortable. It has no rational basis, but it is just a rule of thumb or a bad guess.
My birthday is Oct. 13, 1934. That calculates out to 77 years on Thursday. Christopher Columbus’ discovery of America day is Oct. 12, 1492. I always joked that “I was born on the day after Chris discovered America.” “In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue!”
During my working years, I always took off to see the Columbus Day Parade on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. Through the years, the Grand Marshals of the parade were many native Italians and some Italian-Americans. I remember Marcello Mastroianni and Sophia Loren leading the marchers. I also remember Rudolph Giuliani as a parade leader.
They always were gala affairs, with red, white and green Italian flags everywhere. When Columbus and his fleet of three small ships (Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria) left Spain, they visualized a shorter route to the spices and gold of India. They sought gold, and to bring religion to the pagans. They never did reach the mainland of America. The Caribbean Islands was as far as they got. The Arawak Indians were the only people they discovered.
Today, Christopher Columbus is blamed by many for infecting the Indians with disease, and decimating the natives. During my lifetime I have seen the Genoan explorer go from full-fledged hero to an evil Spaniard. History has a way of reversing itself after many generations- not fair!
My 77th birthday party at my son Gregg’s apartment was wonderful and low-key with offspring and grandchildren; too much excitement is not good for the elderly.
Actually, I don’t know where the years have disappeared to. The birthdays seem to be coming faster, and time seems to fly. Tempus fugit is the key phrase. Also, age is only a state of mind.
