As soon as I turned twenty-one, birthdays lost their magic for me. Now that I’m several years past twenty-one (err, several decades), I no longer tell people when my birthday is. You either know it already or the day will quietly slip past you. Maybe if I were getting younger instead of older, I would be more excited about my birthday.
But once upon a time, birthdays were the most fantastic day of the year. When I was little, whenever it was my sister or my birthday, the birthday girl’s day started with a singular candle placed in whatever she ate for breakfast. Except for cereal. You just couldn’t count on the raisins in Raisin Bran to bear the weight of a candle. Then, it was off to a special birthday activity—my sister’s birthday is in the winter and mine in the summer, so imagine something seasonally appropriate. The grande finale was the birthday dinner and bestowing of presents. For the entire week leading up to my birthday, I would agonize over what I should select for my birthday dinner’s main course. Though, from about ages five to thirteen, my mother knew that my birthday dinner would only be one of two choices: spaghetti and meatballs or hot dogs. And of course, there was the birthday cake. Always chocolate. Duh.
While I loved getting birthday presents, I did not love the singing of “Happy Birthday to You.” My grudge against “Happy Birthday to You” has been long-standing, as evidenced by the blog cover photo. Which leads me to this life lesson: some well-intentioned rituals are too engrained to change; if you can’t just cope with them, perhaps you can modify them. Sadly, for the time being, it seems like “Happy Birthday to You” will have to stay. Though I would like to go on record with my position that we should stop singing the song once you reach a certain age. That’s how we can make adult birthdays happier again.
Here’s my story…
Strike a chord
As I began writing this “Happy Birthday to You” blog, I was curious about the origins of the song. I learned that “Happy Birthday to You” was originally a four-line song written in 1893 called “Good Morning to All.” Two sisters from Kentucky, Mildred and Patty Hill, had intended the song to be a kindergarten classroom greeting from teachers to students:
Good morning to you
Good morning to you
Good morning, dear children
Good morning to all.
If it were up to me, I would’ve stuck with the original version. It’s simple, no one is singled out, and you can easily mouth the words without anyone noticing. As I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, I was a quiet, shy girl. I didn’t like singing in public, and I particularly didn’t like singing in public directed at me.
I wish I were one of those people who reveled in the fanfare and fuss of a birthday. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against birthdays. It’s just the singing of “Happy Birthday to You,” I could do without.
Ironically, I don’t mind singing “Happy Birthday to You” as long as the “to you” is not me. Maybe there’s a way to make adult birthdays happier again with an opt-in system for the song? Like you sign a form every year the week before your birthday indicating your preference? I’m just thinking out loud here…
That takes the cake
I don’t know where you fall on the scale regarding the singing of “Happy Birthday to You” to grownups. To me, the song has come to symbolize unwanted attention. For introverts or self-conscious people, this song feels like an unwanted invasion of privacy. Everyone stares at you. Plus, there’s always someone singing off-key or trying to make harmony. And you’re expected to enjoy the song and smile no matter what.
I have never relished being the center of attention, particularly in a big group setting. As a child and as an adult, I hated the moment when the cake invariably came out. To me, it feels like there’s a glaring spotlight being shined directly right into your eyes.
And on top of that, you then must suffer through the whole “Happy Birthday to You” song just to have a piece of your own cake.
I never know how to handle myself when the singing starts. Should I smile politely? Should I pretend like I’m conducting an orchestra? Should I sing along and be the one to harmonize? For those awkward twelve seconds or so, I just wanted to crawl under the table. As a coping mechanism, for many years, I simply covered my ears. I would still do that today if I could. Maybe covering your ears during the singing part would make adult birthdays happier again. Though you’re still a year older, so maybe not.
Sing a different tune
Just to take you a little deeper into the “Happy Birthday to You” song origins rabbit hole, I learned that one of the reasons people sing “Happy Birthday to You” is that, for children, it’s still a novel song for them to hear in those early years. (Not so after a few decades.) “Happy Birthday to You” also gives kids something to focus on while cake and candles are being brought into the room. That makes perfect sense. “Happy Birthday to You” serves a practical purpose. For kids.
Here’s my gripe: If the song was intended for children, why must we extend it to adults? Consider whether we should stop singing “Happy Birthday to You” to people once they turn fourteen. This is the age when most teens are at the height of being embarrassed by everyone and everything. I know in my household, my husband and I are complete social liabilities to our children. (Though hopefully, I’m still a cool mom in my own unique way.)
I don’t want to act too hastily in suggesting a departure from tradition. In fact, much like the current debate on eliminating Daylight Savings Time, we should have a rigorous study to determine the optimal age for “Happy Birthday to You” cessation. I mean, maybe age eighteen is more appropriate; it’s the legal age for when you’re considered an adult, after all. Or maybe we cut off singing at twenty-one, the legal drinking age? Perhaps the ability to legally drink would be a fair exchange to eliminate the singing of “Happy Birthday to You?” (For the record, I’m not promoting alcohol consumption; I’m just trying to come up with some workable options for future think tank studies.)
And lest you think I’m being too cheeky, apparently, the fight against retiring “Happy Birthday to You” isn’t more than just a preference, there’s also legal issues involved. As it turns out, a third Hill sister, Jessica, found a way to copyright “Happy Birthday to You.” Fun fact: did you know “Happy Birthday to You” once generated millions of dollars each year in licensing fees for the publishing company Warner/Chappell?
Until a court ruling in 2016, whenever anyone sang “Happy Birthday to You” in a public place or on screen, they were infringing on copyright law. Technically, that constitutes a performance. (Yay to my law degree!)
Even though “Happy Birthday to You” is now part of the public domain, it’s time to make birthdays happier again for us adults who no longer care to hear the song on our birthdays.
Face the music
If I were more musically inclined, I would try and write a catchy tune that would unseat “Happy Birthday to You” as the signature birthday song. Many artists—perhaps similarly uncomfortable with “Happy Birthday to You”—have tried to create alternative versions. Stevie Wonder, The Beatles, even Katy Perry have attempted updated versions over the years. Though perhaps their failure to supplant “Happy Birthday to You” was because those songs were full-length, rather than the shorter, twelve second version?
That’s why I am formally issuing a challenge to literally anyone in the world, whether you’re a “Happy Birthday to You” hater with musical abilities, a jingle writer, or a social media influencer: please, please, please come up with an alternative so that we can retire “Happy Birthday to You” for grownups. Help me make adult birthdays happier again. If no one voluntarily steps up, maybe one of the TV networks can create a celebrity-judged music contest. I would never watch that show, but I bet other people would. Just let me know how it turns out.
Until then, I guess I’ll have to smile and bob my head politely for those twelve awkward seconds the next time my birthday rolls around. And when the song finally ends and it’s time to blow out the candles, I’ll take comfort in knowing I’ll hopefully make it to my next birthday before I have to suffer through “Happy Birthday to You” again.
Do you recall any childhood memories that had a strong impact on you later in life? Please share your stories with me in the comments section.
