Happy Birthday to Me

It was 1967, I was eleven years old and living in Laval, Quebec, Montreal’s northern suburb.

There was a lot going on south of the border: LBJ was the President, the war in Southeast Asia was in full swing, as were the protests against it. It was the summer of love, Timothy Leary gave a new definition to the word “trip”, the music world was shaken by Hendrix, Joplin, The Doors and countless other ground-breaking artists.

Back home, it was Canada’s centennial year and the whole country was in party mode and national pride was everywhere. Montreal’s ultra-modern subway system, Le Metro, was one year old and was the main transportation link that welcomed the world to the magic that was Expo 67.

Almost every day that summer, I left home early in the morning with my Expo ’67 passport in hand, took public transit all the way to Ile Ste-Helene and would spend the rest of the day exploring the world without ever leaving my hometown. This was a time long before the internet, when I would leaf through the Encyclopedia Britannica to learn about different countries. The pavilions at Expo gave me the opportunity to see, touch, smell and hear everything these far off lands had to offer. When I had taken in enough of other cultures for one day, I’d head over to La Ronde, the amusement park area of the fair, and enjoy a few rides before making the ninety-minute trek home.

I still have my passport and a photo album containing souvenirs of Montreal’s World Fair, my own personal record of that magical time 55 years ago.

Yesterday, the number 67 took on a different meaning to me; my age for the next 364 days.

I spent the day with Brenda, my favorite person, in a city that is fast becoming one of my favorites, Buenos Aires. Together we explored a magnificent Japanese Garden, found an uncharted vegetarian restaurant, enjoyed some Argentine sparkling wine, had a tango lesson and watched a highly entertaining and breath-taking Tango show. We topped off the day with a
decadent tarta de conitos de dulce de leche bañada en chocolate (little piles of dulce de leche on a shortbread crust covered in chocolate) that was my birthday cake.

It looks like 67 still holds magic for me.Read more