Hawaiian Reeves

Today, Hawaiian is still 29.

But in just over a month I’ll be in a new decade where my hair loss will be expected, the development of jowls will be inevitable, and my complete willingness to watch anything with a commentator will seem par for the course. And while I’m not exactly dreading the number itself in any real way, I also recognize that it definitely marks the end of an era.

I recently had a date with a guy who had skipped two grades as a kid, and was particularly proud of this because it made him part of “a club of people who do things on their own timetable without regard for the norms and pressures of society.” I suppose I could say I’m part of a similar club at this point, the only real difference being that my friends and I are now unlikely to ever again do anything ahead of schedule. Retirement, heart failure, Alzheimer’s, and moving to Florida are the my only remaining options for precocity, and the least likely of those is also the only one that I find at all appealing. Even erectile dysfunction is no longer a surprise at my age, and while I don’t have that particular affliction, my doctor has been very kind to let me know that I should feel free and not ashamed to mention it should the problem ever (not) arise.

In honor of this new era, I considered a Pucker Up and Blow theme for my birthday, with gift bags of party favors to include my favorite lip balm, Sour Patch kids, some Big League Chew, Blow Pops, $100 bills edged with powdered sugar, a kazoo, and a framed copy of my favorite picture of Nicolette Sheridan, but it turns out that I’m too lazy for that. In fact, it’s possible that I still have a few thank you cards to send out from Christmas, so the only giftbags at my birthday party should be ones with my name on them. And since 30 is really the last year it’s even remotely acceptable to expect or accept gifts from people who don’t share your bed, your DNA, or know things about your past that allow the two of you to blackmail each other in perpetuity, I’ve decided to put together a wishlist just in case some of you are feeling generous, have connections that you’ve been hiding from me, or need to be entertained.

So here it is… a birthday wishlist served up Hawaiian-style. And since it’s a big birthday, I might as well list the big-ticket items first.

At the top of the list is definitely the gift that would keep on giving…

Jake Gyllenhaal

I know Jake’s sexuality is up for debate and that he has strong supporters on both sides, but let me just say that I would be good to Jake. Very good. Much better than Heath ever could. He can watch and play all the sports that he’d like and I’d be fine with it. He can even make more movies like Donnie Darko and I won’t complain. And, unlike a lot of people who might have Jake on their wishlist, I actually have some experience with that particular model of man having briefly “dated” a law student who could easily be his more bookish twin brother. Of course, it looks like Jake swings a bigger bat than that kid did, but I can’t say that would necessarily be a problem. And you know, if we’re really putting it all on the table, Jake deserves a lot better than what he’s supposedly been getting so maybe being my birthday present could be a gift of sorts for both of us. I mean, even I look better than Kirsten Dunst does in the morning. (And I have a fully functional and present upper lip.)

I realize that Jake might be a bit hard to come by, but there are a number of substitutes I’d be just as happy to unwrap including Dan Mongomery, Peyton Manning, Bill Hemmer, Adam Levine, Jack Johnson(as long as he doesn’t sing), and a significant number of former Stanford athletes. In fact, it’s probably fair to say that nothing says “I Love You” quite as sweetly as a nicely wrapped (and packaged) ex-Stanford baseball player.

But let’s assume I actually get Jake this year. Because I deserve it. I really do. And since Jake is a valuable and rare commodity and my Mustang doesn’t even even have shoulder belts much less airbags, I’d need a new ride to go with my new sidekick. And again, since it’s a big birthday, I might as well get a…

Bentley Continental GT

I love this car, and this car loves me. Frankly, despite its British heritage, I don’t think there’s anything more Hawaiian on the market than this particular little bit of heaven. And in case of crash or collision, I think Jake would be very, very well protected thanks to some excellent engineering and the large Hawaiian-sized arm that would fly in front of his chest as soon as I slammed on the brakes.

And since a new sports car and a younger boyfriend is starting to look like some kind of post-quarter pre-mid life crisis, I might as well add in a facelift to go with it.  Because the sooner you start the maintenance work, the sooner you cease to age.  It needs to be a good lift, though.  Subtle.  Gentle.  I want to look fresh afterward instead of freshly sanded.  When picturing it, think more Michelle Pfeiffer than Jocelyn Wildenstein.  In fact, here are some visual aids to help you with that image.  And yes, Jocelyn really does look like that.  Because a family fortune of $5 billion can buy you lots of things, but it can’t buy you good judgement or new skin.

Of course, even the new car and the new look wouldn’t make me any less of a homebody, and since my current furniture is truly not even big enough for me, I’d need a new couch to hold the new man.  Thankfully, Restoration Hardware knows just what I need as their English Grand-Scale furniture is easily deep enough to hold two full-sized men lying on their sides, and since the couch doesn’t doesn’t have shoulder belts (just like the Mustang) I’d just have to keep Jake from falling off by locking him in place with my arm.  I’ve never been much of a pro basketball fan, but this sort of seating arrangment could make me learn to love Shaq, LeBron and Kobe in no time.

Other things that might make my birthday a happy one?  The destruction of Katie Holmes’ SAG card, a Dynasty-style catfight between Lindsay Lohan and Ashlee Simpson, a new straight-to-video release from Mary-Kate and Ashley that ends up on the Sci-Fi network, and the Barefoot Contessa video collection.

I know that last one doesn’t make a lotof sense to most of you, but if things go well, Jake’s going to have to meet my mother at some point, and spending a little time with Ina Garten first is probably the easiest way to break him into it gently.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 26th, 2006 at 8:42 pm and is filed under Celebrities, Humor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.