A birthday to remember

Anyone born on December 21, or on other days near Christmas, gets ripped off (mom digs out a couple Christmas presents and gives them to you early, presents are wrapped in Christmas paper, or worst of all, they forget). This year I told my two daughters, both thirty-something, that I wanted my birthday to be special - and special to me would be taking the train from Portland to Boston and going out to dinner with them.

My event-manager-daughter, the Massachusetts Convention Center Authority's Meredith Miller, called with a spectacular suggestion: dinner at the Rustic Kitchen Park Square on Stuart Street, where a reservation-only group of up to 20 people are served dinner prepared before them while the entire process is videotaped for broadcast later on one of the cable TV cooking cannels. Located inside the Radisson Hotel, the Viking Studio where the show is taped, is one of several dining rooms, but the only one where dinner preparation is carried on in front of the diners, as hostess Allison Bigelow engages the diners in conversation while she is showing off her culinary skills. Unknown to the diners, those who arrange the reservations learn something about each of the diners, and pass the information on to Allison, who at one point said, "And there's someone here with a birthday… I think her name is Paula?"

But, I get ahead of myself. As my uncle Ben Cushing always says about any adventure, "getting there is half the adventure." In this case, getting there was more of a nightmare than an adventure. It snowed on Thursday, December 20, but I drove from Orr's Island to Brunswick to my dentist appointment to have a sore tooth checked out. Bad news, Dr. Randy Howell said. He gave me the name of two specialists - one in Bath and one in Brunswick. Since Bath is on my way to work, I stopped in to Dr. Sarka's office to see if they night have a cancellation. No, but they did have one opening tomorrow, Friday, my birthday at 1:30 p.m. At first I said no, because my train left Portland at 1:50 p.m. But, it would be another two weeks if I didn't take that opening. So, I thought, I'll take the bus. Unfortunately Dr. Sarka had to take care of an emergency just before my appointment, so I didn't leave the office, minus my tooth with a mouth full of wet gauze, until 3 p.m.

After picking up some pain medication at CVS, I drove to the bus-train station in Portland. It was 4:15 by the time I got parked and inside the terminal. The next bus wasn't until 5:30 p.m. I cell phoned my daughter who asked, "Could you drive? The reservations are for 7 and they're not refundable (85 dollars each times three)." Driving into Boston on a Friday night with a throbbing jaw? Not my idea of a great birthday, but I half heartedly said "I could try," thinking all of our elaborate plans were about to go in the dumper.

Around Kennebunk, my aching jaw, drooling gauze-filled mouth, and the prospect of hunting for a restaurant in Boston after dark was more than I could take. Just then my cell phone rang, and Meredith said I shouldn't have any problem finding the restaurant because it was right near the Park Plaza Hotel, where our New England Press Association meeting is held every year. Yes, a big boost to my self-confidence - but what about the pain… I rummaged around in my pocketbook and found the pills. Yes, the label said they would make me drowsy, and I was, after all, operating heavy machinery at speeds sometimes approaching 80 miles an hour. But in more than seven years of driving in and out of Boston while my daughters were at Northeastern University, I never once got drowsy - it was too much like bumper cars at Old Orchard - people cutting you off, jamming on their breaks, flipping you off. So I popped a pill and drove on.

And so, Stuart Street was exactly where my daughter said it would be. So was the Rustic Kitchen and the Radisson Hotel. Not only that - a smiling valet parker was there to stow my van somewhere. Outside the hotel doors, I called the girls with the good news. My mouth still packed with gauze, I said, "Yeth, I'm at the hotel, and ith only thix forty-five." Ten minutes later I had ditched the gauze in the ladies' room, inspected my gums to make sure I was no longer bleeding, and seated myself at the bar where I was sipping a Manhattan. The two Miller girls, Meredith and Allison, arrived moments later, and we three squealed with delight at 63-year-old mom being able to pull off the special birthday we all knew we would remember forever.