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Berger’s Burg: Queens writer gets birthday blues on Father’s Day


Eighteen is also my favorite…

By Alex Berger

June is my favorite month. Why? Because June is the month of my birth. What could be more important to me than the month when I came into being — except, of course, the month my New York Football Giants won the Super Bowl.

Eighteen is also my favorite number. Why? Because I was born on the 18th day of June. Do you know what other historical events occurred on June 18? You don’t know? Well, sit right down while I fill you in, compliments of the Associated Press.

On June 18, 1815 Napoleon Bonaparte met his Waterloo when his army was defeated by British and Prussian troops in Belgium; suffragist Susan B. Anthony was fined $100 for attempting to vote in the 1872 presidential election, but the fine was never paid; Amelia Earhart became the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean in 1928; the United Nations adopted its International Declaration of Human Rights in 1948; Sally K. Ride became the first woman in space in 1983; and President George Bush sent Congress his proposal for the creation of a Homeland Security Department in 2002.

In addition, Beatle Paul McCartney, movie critic Roger Ebert and actresses Isabella Rosselini and Carol Kane all celebrate their birthdays on June 18. Good to have you aboard, guys; however, Paul and Roger must know the horrors of having their birthdays swallowed up by Father’s Day. Fellas, join the “Birthday Too Close to Fathers’ Day” club.

Alex’s June is the sixth month of the year, but did you know that in Roman times the year began in March, and June was the fourth month? That must have been a terrible time for song writers and lovers. Can you just picture Al Jolson singing his signature song, “April Showers” as “June Showers?” or “August is busting out all over?” My sensibilities quiver at the thought.

The month may have been named for Juno, the Roman goddess of marriage, but many savants believe that its name was derived from the Latin word “juniores,” meaning “young men.” Those earthy Latins held June to be sacred to young males since June was the ideal month for love and marriage.

Conversely, they viewed May as strictly for “majores,” which means “elders,” or, as defined in the King George’s version of Romance Languages, Roman “alte Cockers.” Someone must inform the AARP about the Romans’ disrespect for its senior citizens.

In the event that you didn’t know, there is another event of importance in June besides my birthday, and I will share it with you: On June 8, 1786, ice cream sold for first time in the United States.

Make mine a chocolate-by-death ice-cream sundae with pineapple topping, wet walnuts, mounds of whipped cream and a ruby red cherry atop everything. Dr. Atkins advocates, eat your hearts out.

Other June birthdays include those of Donald Duck (June 9 is his 70th birthday); President George Herbert Bush, who was born June 12, 1924; teacher Mildred J. Hill (June 27, 1859), who wrote the song “Happy Birthday”; and I, MYSELF and ME, who were born in 19?? — Gloria, I know you are not going to buy me anything for my birthday, but you better not forget me on Father’s Day.

Last week, I told Gloria that I was looking forward to my 43rd birthday. “You are facing the wrong direction,” she said.

Also in June are the Brazilian celebrations Lovers’ Day (June 12) and Festa Junina (June 23). But in this country we celebrate Flag Day on June 14; and June 19 is “Juneteenth” Day, the day slaves in Galveston, Texas were declared free, two years after emancipation was declared by President Abraham Lincoln in 1865.

Other June history includes the first baseball game, which was played on June 19, 1846 in Hoboken, N.J.; and June 28 is the anniversary of Molly Pitcher’s serving as a cannon gunner at the Battle of Monmouth, N.J. during the Revolutionary War. She was subsequently awarded a non-commissioned rank in the U.S. Army in 1778.

June is also known as the month of marriages and a time to adopt a cat and enjoy our American Rivers. It also celebrates “Take Your Dog to Work Day” and Nudist and Nudist Hiking Days (which occur most everyday in June except when it snows). Last June I wanted to trod in my all-together but Gloria stopped me after I bought a new pair of hiking shoes and sun lotion.

“Nobody wants to see you in your ill-fitting, flabby, wrinkled suit of skin,” she said. “It distracts from those cool pair of hiking shoes you are wearing.”

Humph! Gloria simply doesn’t appreciate a work of art that took me years to create.

One recent morning I phoned my two sons, two daughters-in-law and four grandchildren. Their conversations went as follows:

Jon and Alicia: “Happy Fathers’ Day, Dad”; Vance and Heather: “Happy Fathers’ Day, Pop”; Justin, 10, and Brendan, 9: “Happy Fathers’ Day, Grandpa”; Kerrin, 4: “Happy Fathers’ Day, Gramp”; and Aaron, 3: “Buy me a ‘Sponge Bob’ toy, GaGa.”

No mention of my birthday — nothing, nada, zilch.

So as my birthdate approaches, allow me to bask in the warmth of my own wish I wish myself, and wish my wish will wish me the same wish I wished myself last year: “I Nostri Piu Sentiti Auguri Di Buon Compleanno,” “Feliz Cumpleanos!” “Hartelijk Gefeliciteerd!, “Herzlichen Gluckwunsch Zum Geburtstag” and “Joyeux Anniversaire,” which mean “many happy returns on my birthday.” I bet you never knew I spoke so many tongues. I never knew, either.

Readers, Father’s Day is fast approaching. So to make a birthday-wishless columnist’s day complete, someone please wish me a happy birthday on June 18. It would be so deserving. Thank you.

Nonetheless, I will relax, exercise and enjoy the jubilant, joyful month of June along with you.

Reach columnist Alex Berger at timesledger@aol.com or call 718-229-0300, Ext. 140.