Today is a special day – my 69th birthday. Since I am a guy who has always been obsessed with numbers and statistics, I thought I would mark this day by calculating how long I have been alive on this earth – since my birth, not my conception!
Here are the stats on how much time has passed since my birth on the last day of April, 1946:
I have been alive for 25,202 days.
I have been alive for 604,848 hours.
I have been alive for 36,290,880 minutes.
I have been alive for 2,177,452,800 seconds.
Sure hope I get another 25,000 days, although I may need a bib and adult Depends!
I officially “checked in” at 11:07 a.m. on April 30, 1946. My relatives have always joked that I must be a born gambler because of the seven-come-11 implications of my exact birth time, although they are wrong. I have a “house” mentality and never gamble on anything. I’d rather profit off of gamblers.
The official location of my check-in was the Syracuse New York General Hospital. My parents were renting a one-bedroom apartment in downtown Syracuse, not far from the hospital. About 10 years ago while we were visiting some sites in Syracuse, I decided to satisfy my natural curiosity and drove down to the intersection where the hospital had been located. The building was still there, more than 50 years later, although it is now a nursing home. Everybody, including my wife Linda, laughed at that. But I got her back when we were driving through the “busy metropolis” of Warsaw, N.Y. Our grandson Chris was on the trip with us and I pointed out the car window at the building that had been Wyoming County Community Hospital on the day Linda was born, six weeks after me. “Gram, were you really born in a furniture store?” Christopher shouted. She looked over and glowered at me – man, was I on her shit list. “No, Chris, it was the county hospital then. But that was way back in 1946. It has long since been Zeches Furniture Store.”
My cousin George Scipione was born only five days after me, thereby ending the long stretch of years with only female offspring born into the Scipione family. Hey, we are talking about a “traditional” Italian family where male offspring are especially coveted. George and I kind of figured out that both our conceptions must have been celebratory, because the nine month gestation period went back to the day when the United States ended World War II by dropping the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. We must be at least metaphorically related to famed physicists Enrico Fermi and Emilio Segre!