I recently celebrated another trip around the sun, a euphemism for “Happy Birthday” or, in my case, “Four years away from Medicare!”
I’m not one of those individuals who feel a 61st birthday is cause for celebration. Sure, it’s nice to open my Facebook feed and see “Happy Birthday” posts from, so far, 143 friends. I usually wait a few days and then post the obligatory, “Thanks for all the birthday wishes” message, prompting another two dozen friends to apologize, lest I unfriend them.
Friends, please don’t feel guilty if you missed my special day, for I received all the accolades I could handle by opening various apps on my phone. I don’t know why I need to reveal my date of birth so I can do something as innocuous as paying for gas by waving my phone in the pump’s general direction via my fuel app, but I do it anyway. And often, that information is rewarded, but with varying degrees of ‘happy birthday” excitement from the app developers.
Take my credit union, for example. Upon rising from bed on the day I turned 61, I turned on my phone and saw I had received birthday wishes from the financial institution that currently holds the title to my Lincoln Nautilus. Via the app, it wished me “the happiest of birthdays, filled with lots of cake!”
I was hoping for something a little pricier than cake. Cancellation of my loan would have been a nice gift.
Starbucks, Thank you for the birthday wishes
Some of the food and beverage establishments, whose apps clog my phone, are willing to part with their product or service for free. Thank you, Starbucks, for your generous offer of one complimentary hand-crafted beverage or food item. I was up very early on my birthday, either from the excitement of turning 61 or the fact that, as a sexagenarian, I urinate hourly.
By 6 a.m. I had already had my daily coffee allotment. But I was hungry, so I wandered into my neighborhood Starbucks, opened the app, thrust it toward the barista, and was rewarded with a complimentary cheese and fruit protein box. Nothing like slices of brie and gouda to begin my next year on earth. And only 470 calories!
“Happy 29th,” he yelled as I exited the store. Those baristas, such kidders!
Not to be outdone, my McDonald’s app was also giddy about my special day. So much so that McDonald’s EXTENDED the amount of time I could get one of several menu items for free. By 10 whole days! Perhaps this is the Golden Arches’ way of telling me what I already know.
My short-term memory is fading.
McDonald’s, Thank you for the birthday wishes as well
Nevertheless, I have until October 6 to walk into, drive through, or park outside of any McDonald’s and obtain, absolutely free, items ranging from a Hot ‘N Spicy McChicken to a Sausage Burrito to a six-piece Chicken McNuggets. Surprisingly, the latter contains about half the calories of the Starbucks protein box. Next year I will shun the gouda.
I spent the rest of the day waiting to see if other apps would be as generous. Would Spotify treat me to an ad-free playlist? Would United Airlines offer me a complimentary round-trip ticket? Would Uber offer me a free ride? That would have come in handy last week when I found myself slogging through 8 inches of New York City rain toward a flooded subway, unwilling to pay the double-digit surcharge for a ride from midtown Manhattan to LaGuardia.
And then there is Amazon, my phone’s most visited app. Come on Jeff Bezos, you’re worth nearly $150 billion. Make your loyal customers happy on their birthdays by footing the bill for one item your online mall carries. Put a monetary cap on it if you must. I would have been happy with a three-pack of socks, seeing that most of my footwear was ruined following my New York stay.
But how about lifting the cap on those special birthdays: 16, 21, 40. How about 65? I will gladly renew my Amazon Prime status annually if it means I can choose anything I want on Sept. 26, 2027.
Can I get a Lincoln? With free shipping?
