"I don't need comforting, and I'm not particularly sad or sorry to be here, but if you'd like to come in and have some tea, you're welcome.”
If I recall correctly, it was during a birthday party when a well-meaning uncle asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I, as a very put-upon eight- or nine-year-old, responded that I’d like to be a dragon thankyouverymuch. I think my mother made me a cake out of Pickwick biscuits that year, but I barely remember anything beyond that.
In the grand scheme of things, I don’t think I’m going to remember this birthday as being particularly remarkable either, even though it’s happening in the middle of a pandemic. That’s an incredibly privileged position to be in. I’m at home, I have a steady paycheck (as does my wife). My family is mostly healthy. I got to speak with my closest friends and have a virtual dinner party last night. I spoke with my dad and brother, and with my grandparents. We had a bit too much wine and I played the guitar while my wife sang Eurovision classics.
Today (the actual day of my birth), I’m mostly working. I’m donating money to my local food banks. I’ll send out my usual messages to my elected officials begging them to waive rents and mortgages, increase pay and improve (or just provide) health benefits for essential workers, and pursue decarceration.
It’s the very least I can do right now, but it’s something.
The title is from the excellent Enchanted Forest Chronicles about a deeply practical princess named Cimorene and the dragons she befriends. The dragons had an excellent approach to gender, which just added fuel to my conviction that this was a suitable career trajectory for me.