Longtime friend Glenna Ragan left a little book of quotations about birthdays on our front door last weekend.
Included was the observation by 5th century Greek historian Herodotus: "If a man insisted on always being serious and never allowed himself a bit of fun and relaxation, he would grow mad or become unstable without knowing it."
What does a relatively ordinary product of the Ozarks do for fun and relaxation when he turns 70? Hmmm. A new recliner? Another "My Pillow"? Perhaps a cafeteria at 4 p.m. for dinner? A moist cake without walnuts so as to gum it enjoyably?
My turn on that dawn of inevitable aging arrived last weekend. I had a number of options for fun celebration. They ranged from taking in a movie to taking in a show in Branson. (Which I often do anyway, living 25 minutes away in my hometown of Harrison).
As shocking as it may be to some faithful and valued readers to know I, too, am among all the fallen, I opted for a high-energy getaway evening at a place I hadn't seen in over a year: The Cherokee Hotel and Casino in West Siloam Springs.
The way I saw it, I deserved a relaxing and fun evening's dose of music, festivity, moderate excitement and continual noise simply for living seven decades (realizing Dad exited at age 64).
My choice was to climb behind the wheel and head just over two hours west to this festive place that Herodotus might also have favored.
Besides the live music and melee and just a happy crowd in the Christmas season, I especially enjoy the finest fork-tender filet I've discovered in this part of our region. And word had it Cherokee had recently refurbished and reopened its popular Flint Creek Steakhouse.
I never go expecting to win money at the slots where I invariably wind up beside (or between) lots of middle-aged females with far higher hopes than mine. I'm satisfied to spend what money I've allotted to have fun and relax the same as purchasing a ticket to a theme park or a stage play. Although I've spent much of the last seven decades as a risk-taker when I believed in the subject or cause, I've never been drawn to gambling. What are we if we fear taking risks in this fleeting life filled with such uncertainties?
So here I sat spinning the machine again and again, winning some, losing a little more each time, listening to the rock band tuning up, sipping on a Coke Zero and feeling this was indeed a good choice. I find relaxation and fun in just watching others and wondering about their life stories.
Like sitting in my sociology class at UCA, Cherokee's an ideal spot to study those from all walks of life constantly teeming in the aisles and between the machines. It's also a melting pot of humanity that can't help but assure that we feel like we're pretty much alike.
There were worn blue jeans, slacks, dresses, pantsuits, T-shirts, button-down collars, sport coats, work jackets, camo, loafers, work boots, ball caps and Stetsons.
I also found enjoyment in the colorful flashing lights of all those flashing machines and their steady boinks, rings and toodle-oodle-doos. My favorite actually boinged with excitement when I won 20 cents after betting a dollar.
Filled to my eyelids with fun after an hour or so, it was time to relax and fill the area beneath my chest with a 10-ounce filet and buttery mashed potatoes. Flint Creek has been transformed from a more formal ambience into an authentic steakhouse grill with wooden tables in a casual yet friendly and airy atmosphere.
I was surprised to find the menu prices considerably lower than expected. And when our waitress brought my medium-well version, I was one pleased birthday boy to find the thicker cut even more tender and tasty than I'd hoped.
As the table was being cleared, they they delivered a pie-sized crunchy birthday brownie with ice cream. Being diabetic, I resisted mightily, well, after the first 10 bites.
Afterwards, back amid the lights and ringing, I succumbed to a final "miraculous" roll at the Elvis slot machine. I suspect, like many others in the building that evening, I felt this fated spin would send us home a big exclamation point on so much doggone fun and relaxation.
A potentially winning emblem stopped first on the slot's farthest left, followed by another in the center that matched it. Yes, yes! My heart momentarily raced. I even flashed a smile, knowing this was going to be the ideal welcome to my seventh decade.
That, of course, was just before the third rotation to the far right landed on a different emblem. Oh well.
I suspect ol' Herodotus would have been proud to know I left this fanciful world of a great meal, flashing lights, unrealistically high hopes, distinctive noises and fascinating people a relaxed man who'd experienced plenty of fun. And that's exactly why I'd come.
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Mike Masterson's column appears regularly in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Email him at [email protected].
Editorial on 12/13/2016