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Community Corner

Ferndale Always Has Reason to Celebrate

Ferndale Patch writer Emell Derra Adolphus takes to the streets, kicks up stories and asks questions.

The great thing about living in a city such as Ferndale is that there is always a reason to celebrate. Whether it is Boneless Wing Thursdays at or Cougar Bash at , Ferndale swells with cause for celebration.

This month, the toast of the town is Como's. It celebrated its 50th birthday April 1. Ferndale residents and friends came out for the party to honor what owner Sicilia Grego calls 50 years of “nothing easy." Moving forward with age, I wondered: Why do we celebrate the sophistication and prestige aging does to a business but not to ourselves?

Wanting to toast a pint to Grego, I too came out to celebrate. After making my usual reservation for a party of one plus none, I arrived to Como's, the birthday edition. There were gold balloons, tinsel and twine, glittered gold stars—the band Gold Rush—pizza, parents, children, crying babies and spilled beverages. I thought it looked vaguely familiar — oh, yeah, it’s a birthday party.  

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As I made my way out of the family zone and into the designated party-of-one zone, the bar, I remembered
 the old days of honoring my birthday in such a celebratory way. How gold balloons and glittered stars had become L’Oreal gold edition anti-aging cream and wrinkle-reducing tips from the stars.

Looking at the big "50" sign behind the bar, I admired Como's for not shying away from its age. Grego doesn't shy away, either. . He had asked Grego's age and then apologized. Grego said she was 72, adding, "So what? Age is just a number."

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Somehow, birthdays have become the trickiest of all things to celebrate. At parties, we toast to another year older next to the birthday girl or boy, and sometimes to the big pink elephant because we all know it's not your 29th year again.

As a reporter, I often ask the most difficult question: "How old are you?" Some razz me about the question, some don't care, some won't answer.

But if we can celebrate the history of our accomplishments, of our establishments, why can’t we celebrate the history of ourselves? After all, having the opportunity to age should be accomplishment enough. How come we were not capable of celebrating our later years with as much fervor as our early years?

When it comes to birthdays, at what age does it stop being a countdown to celebration, and just a countdown?

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