On Saturday, I turn 61. I'm in good company, too. Mayor Sandi Bloem and I share that birthday. So does County Coroner Bob West. For some reason, birthday No. 61 doesn't bother me a quarter as much as the last one. Mebbe this birthday means I'm that much closer to retirement. Mebbe it's simply another date on the calendar. I don't know where the break-off point is between saying "years old" and "years young." I know I'm no longer a spring chicken. But I still have most of my hair.

Question: Are birthdays still important to you?