Celebrate While We Still Can
Runner-up
by Ali Black
Northeast Ohio Writer
When Trap Beckham’s “Birthday Bitch” comes on, I pucker my lips and poke my butt out. I don’t start twerking cuz—one, my brother and mother-in-law are here—and two, I’m too shy to twerk in front of people because I’m not that good at it. My friends crowd around me and yell, “Ayeee!” I raise my champagne glass in the air and say, “Ayeee!” right back to em’. I probably shouldn’t be dancing to this song because the lyrics don’t even fit me but fuck it—it’s my fortieth birthday! I’ve been talking about turning forty for a year now so I’ma celebrate. I even made a birthday playlist. We got some Drake, EarthGang, Kendrick, Nicki Minaj, and Meg Thee Stallion. I mix it up and throw it back with some Mint Condition, Mariah Carey and Tony! Toni! Toné! cuz I’m an 80s baby.
We party at the spot til’ midnight. I’m feeling too excited to part ways with everybody so I invite them to the house. Once we’re home, I trade my black stiletto sandals for leopard flats. I get the JBL pill and play “Lotto” by Joyner Lucas all because the first line says, “It’s my birthday, I’m about to get lit-lit.” Tae and I dance in the living room. We laugh at my moves. I’m so off beat cuz I’m at least two drinks in. We go like this til’ three in the morning. We sing. We rap. We dance. We munch on sweet chili Doritos. They taste even worse on top of alcohol.
When “Double Up” by Nipsey plays, I rap all the lyrics and sing-cry every time the chorus comes on. When Belly and Dom Kennedy say, “I’d jump off the ledge if you with me” I get all emotional cuz I know they talking about that real and rare love, the kind a lot of people can’t find. I lucked up on it so I sing hard cuz I feel like the lyrics are speaking directly to me.
It's almost been two years since I celebrated my fortieth. Since then, I’ve been thinking a lot about how we all celebrate our birthdays. In some ways, it’s a little out of control. Every year feels like an opportunity to outshine the previous birthday year. We don’t just celebrate milestones anymore. The kids celebrate their “Jordan year” at 23 and their “Kobe year” at 24. We buy thirty-four inch helium number balloons to match our birthday dress and then we take the balloons to the five-star restaurant we booked for our ten-to-fifteen-guests-dinner-party.
We went from saying, “it’s my birthday” to “it’s my birthday weekend,” to “it’s my birthday month.” I wonder what caused this shift. I think about the first verse in Anderson Paak’s “Celebrate” when he sings, “But you’re doing well, I mean you’re not dead / So let’s celebrate while we still can,” and I realize we amp up our birthdays in the way that we do because celebrating ourselves is our way of saying, “I’m glad I’m still here.” It’s also a way to remember and honor all the people we’ve lost. In some ways, the birthday month ain’t even about us.
When I’m celebrating my birthday I’m thinking about everyone I’ve ever lost. When I make a toast, I’m thinking about my parents. If I take a shot, it’s to happiness and to Calvin and Emmanuel and Ralph and Jakiya and Grandma and Aunt Joyce and Aunt Gail and Shannon and Dee and a host of other people. When I blow out my candles, I’m wishing for happiness and a long, healthy life. I’m celebrating because I’m just happy to be alive.
We party at the spot til’ midnight. I’m feeling too excited to part ways with everybody so I invite them to the house. Once we’re home, I trade my black stiletto sandals for leopard flats. I get the JBL pill and play “Lotto” by Joyner Lucas all because the first line says, “It’s my birthday, I’m about to get lit-lit.” Tae and I dance in the living room. We laugh at my moves. I’m so off beat cuz I’m at least two drinks in. We go like this til’ three in the morning. We sing. We rap. We dance. We munch on sweet chili Doritos. They taste even worse on top of alcohol.
When “Double Up” by Nipsey plays, I rap all the lyrics and sing-cry every time the chorus comes on. When Belly and Dom Kennedy say, “I’d jump off the ledge if you with me” I get all emotional cuz I know they talking about that real and rare love, the kind a lot of people can’t find. I lucked up on it so I sing hard cuz I feel like the lyrics are speaking directly to me.
It's almost been two years since I celebrated my fortieth. Since then, I’ve been thinking a lot about how we all celebrate our birthdays. In some ways, it’s a little out of control. Every year feels like an opportunity to outshine the previous birthday year. We don’t just celebrate milestones anymore. The kids celebrate their “Jordan year” at 23 and their “Kobe year” at 24. We buy thirty-four inch helium number balloons to match our birthday dress and then we take the balloons to the five-star restaurant we booked for our ten-to-fifteen-guests-dinner-party.
We went from saying, “it’s my birthday” to “it’s my birthday weekend,” to “it’s my birthday month.” I wonder what caused this shift. I think about the first verse in Anderson Paak’s “Celebrate” when he sings, “But you’re doing well, I mean you’re not dead / So let’s celebrate while we still can,” and I realize we amp up our birthdays in the way that we do because celebrating ourselves is our way of saying, “I’m glad I’m still here.” It’s also a way to remember and honor all the people we’ve lost. In some ways, the birthday month ain’t even about us.
When I’m celebrating my birthday I’m thinking about everyone I’ve ever lost. When I make a toast, I’m thinking about my parents. If I take a shot, it’s to happiness and to Calvin and Emmanuel and Ralph and Jakiya and Grandma and Aunt Joyce and Aunt Gail and Shannon and Dee and a host of other people. When I blow out my candles, I’m wishing for happiness and a long, healthy life. I’m celebrating because I’m just happy to be alive.
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Ali Black is a writer from Cleveland, Ohio. She is the author of If It Heals At All (Jacar Press, 2020). The book was named a finalist for the 2021 Ohioana Book Award in poetry. Her writing has appeared in The Atticus Review, jubilat, Literary Hub, The Offing, The Adroit Journal and elsewhere.
IG: @aliblack_poet | Twitter: @aliblack_poet |
