Congratulations

I had my 26 birthday yesterday. Since the epic turning of 21 I have pretty much stopped getting excited for September 17th to come along. It seemed like another year just meant getting that much closer to 30.
And Time is, indeed, relentless.
Back home the traditional greeting on one's inception day is "Happy Birthday." On my first birthday in Germany I heard a lot of "Congratulations!" I do not know if it is a difference in culture or just a slight translation variance, but it got me to thinking...
The coming of another birthday is indeed an achievement deserving of a 'congrats.' We take it for granted in our First-World Supermarket, penicillin days of today, but Survival is the name of the game. Another year lived in the days of our early ancestors was gigantic. Huge fractions of our population at intervals through history have perished because of incurable plague -- plagues that did not discriminate from Peasant or Pericles. Wars have left entire generations 'Lost.'
Each year, indeed each sunrise, and each breath is an accomplishment. 'Young' is a state of mind. And because on the most basic level, your actual birth day is the starting point on a path to certain death, congratulate yourself each you extend the 'finish line.'

Misc.

I just won my first playoff game since high school. That was about almost eight years ago. While we won a conference championship in college, we were ineligable for post season action because we were in a five year probationary period for moving up form division II to IAA. (I never understood the punishment for moving up, but the NCAA has some issues.)
We beat the Weinheim Longhorns 30-13 in front of our home fans in Berlin. It felt good and this week we have a tough test with a good Marburg team.
I have been pretty invested in football and my creative outlet has been lots and lots of guitar. Thank you Marty Schwartz on youtube. I have not written much, and the vast majority of it has been devoted to writing letters back home to seemingly long-lost friends.
My mom sent me the first issue of Powder Magazine. I read all of the Shane McConkey tribute first. I knew of him, but never the entire story. So thanks Shane for your contributions to the sport and for the fat skies that will carry me this winter.
I will miss Berlin. It has been a fun and unique place with some cool people.
I hope to extend my football career again this Sunday.
Be Well, Jon