On the Occasion of My 43rd Birthday: The Dave Matthews Prophecy

I was always a jinxie girl. It was rarely the typical signs of luck that got me;  black cats, ladders, the number thirteen, stepping on cracks (which may explain why my mother always had broken ankles). But I was jinxie about loads of other things.

As a field hockey goalie I always had to hit the goal posts, left then right, then overhead, then the pads on my shins. If my attention wavered then that meant I was going to miss the next shot on goal. Which is an AWESOME thing to think right before being attacked by say, the 6′ tall power forward on UConn’s DI team. It explains a lot about my 5’3” shortcomings as a goalie, and perhaps about me as a person.

Jennie, 5 Years Old
Make a Wish
February 25, 1976

As for my daily life, jinxie luck was about making a wish whenever I blew out my birthday candles. And it was also about making a wish whenever the lock moved to the front of the chain necklace I wore. Then I’d kiss the lock before spinning it to the back of my neck and say to myself, “I wish that someone loved me. Amen.” Which was wishing not for daily love; I was the family peace-maker, I always felt loved. I wished for romantic love. I wished for it with all my heart and soul, as I listened to Total Eclipse of the Heart or played my flute on a sandy beach in Cape Cod wearing a diaphanous prairie skirt. (Seriously. You feeling it? What twelve year old boy wouldn’t want to hit that, am I right?)

Over time I added to the wish, “I wish that someone loved me and that I knew it. Amen,” just in case I was missing something.

And after being asked to the prom a couple times, but always by people who would end up someday writing billion dollar code for Apple or studying the space-time continuum (sadly neither of which were hitting my Harlequin Romance G-spot), I adapted. “I wish that someone loved me and that I knew it and that I loved them back. Amen”

Looking for love in all the wrong places…
Homecoming, 1986

Which just about covered it. It was like the Serenity Prayer, but for teen romantic love.

I also watched for The First Song Prophecy. Put simply, the first song you hear on your birthday is prophetic.

At 39 it was Closer to Fine, such an absolutely perfect song that at the time I wrote a haiku about it.

nostalgic birthday haiku:

song from college played

“How long ’til my soul gets it

right?” thirty-nine years…

At 40, Landslide was the first song that played. It was so perfect, and the day so overwhelming or depressing or both, that I literally stopped writing mid-sentence. “Landslide played today and-”

At 41 it was Circus on the Moon, an absolutely perfect song for a woman with a four year old, two three year olds and a breastfeeding baby. No matter which way you take the metaphor… I’m the moon, my house is the moon, my boobs are the moon. Circus. Circus. Circus.

Today it was Let Her Go. Which was a little disappointing. On the one hand, it sounds eerily like Total Eclipse of the Heart. “Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by.” Ugh.

But on the other hand, it’s sort of where I’m at today. “Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low, Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home…”

“I only know I appreciate how clear is my skin, When I wake up with a huge zit on my chin,” (on my 43rd birthday.)

“Only know how awesome their antics are that surround me, When someone vomits all over the post office and my feet,” (the week of my 43rd birthday.)

“Only appreciate the school where they learn, when they’re home for conferences at every turn,” (on my 43rd birthday.)

Luckily, there’s a clause in the birthday song gris-gris. You can opt for the second song you hear when the first song has already been started and is too lame or depressing to apply to your life.

And as always, the exception applies.

See you and me

Have a better time than most can dream

Have it better than the best

So we can pull on through

Whatever tears at us

Whatever holds us down

And if nothing can be done

We’ll make the best of what’s around

The Best of What’s Around by Dave Matthews. Not my favorite of his songs, but the words. The words.

Seeing things from a

Better side than most can dream

On a clearer road I feel

Oh you could say she’s safe

Whatever tears at her

Whatever holds her down

And if nothing can be done

She’ll make the best of what’s around

Jen & Co.
February 2014

It’s about having the love, feeling the love, and returning the love. If we’re lucky and we work hard enough, it’s right there all around us.

May this year be a year for all of us to make our own magic when we need it, and then to bring it to those we love, near and far. May all your wishes come true and only happy prophecies find you across the radio waves. (And if all else fails, wait for the next song.)

Turns out not where but what you think

That really matters

We’ll make the best of what’s around

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