I’m 30 today!  My body is celebrating with a dull headache from staying up too late last night.

The biggest difference between today and yesterday is that I’m no longer in the 18-29 demographic.  I’m now four years from leaving the 18-34 male demographic, which is still highly coveted.

After that, I start to become a nobody.  The advertising world begins the process of closing the books on me.  After passing the 34 threshold, I’ll enter that 35-44 age group, and I’m not sure what they’re supposed to buy.  All I know is that I’m done when I hit 45.  They really don’t care at that point. That’s when I’m relegated to pitches for high-end cars and constipation remedies.

In my 30th year, I’m now going to learn how to be handy around the house.  I now have a power drill, and I’m going to know how to use it.  I’m also going to try and pare down my possessions.  I want to shed at least 30 percent of my belongings.  I have junk that’s been sitting in the attic since 2005, which I’ve never even thought about.  I should just go up there, get the stuff and throw the boxes in the trash without looking in them.  I’ll never miss that stuff.

I’m glad that I lost the desire in the last couple of years to wear T-shirts with things written on the front.  That practice should end for all at age 30.  This is an adjustment I won’t have to force myself to make.  A healthy 30-year-old should have to speak through his clothes.

I do remember that when I turned 20, I thought about what my life would be like at 30.  I am surprised, delighted and gratified.

Anyway, on this happy day, I share a birthday with the states of Oregon and Arizona, the departments of Commerce and Labor, the League of Women Voters, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, Jack Benny, Hugh Downs, Florence Henderson, Sen. Judd Gregg, Pat O’Brien, Teller (of Penn and), Ken Wahl, Rob Thomas and Freddie Highmore.

Happy birthday to us!