On the eve of another birthday, I ask this: When are you old enough to know better?

In a few days, I will celebrate another birthday.

I have much to be thankful for but it will mark the end of my weirdest lap around the sun, thanks to the pandemic.

We’ve come a long way since last July. Weird. I couldn’t hear well while wearing a mask. Unexplainable. That’s probably why I turn the car radio down to see better while driving.

No more excuses. It’s official: I’m old enough to know better.

I’m old enough to know better than to wear a white shirt while eating spaghetti, or a black shirt while eating mini, white-powdered donuts in the car.

I’m old enough to know better than to leave the umbrella at home when rain is in the forecast, or cancel plans just because the TV weather person says it might rain.

I’m old enough to know better than to ask a clerk at Casey’s convenience store for local driving directions and she replies, “Don’t you have a phone, sir?”

I’m old enough to know better than to forget my phone or wallet at home. One challenge of working from home for 15 months: I get to the office and realize that I forgot my computer at home.

I am old enough to know better and realize no one under age 60 remembers that Highway 15 was once called Illinois Route 460. But I mention it whenever I’m traveling along 460, east or west. Ditto for the old Cahokia Downs Race Track, just below the hill, there on 460.

I am old enough to know better than to believe Mayberry was a real town from my childhood.

I am old enough to know better than to believe my two adult kids will want those old belongings of my parents and grandparents in the $116-a-month storage unit in Swansea.

I am old enough to know better than to think those old boxes of warped music albums will ever be played and valuable again.

I’m old enough to know better than to believe there’s not a better sports movie better than “Hoosiers.” There are about a dozen movies tied for second place.

I am old enough to know better than to think mens’ fast-pitch softball will return to Southside Park in Belleville, or that fans will flock to American Legion baseball games at Whitey Herzog Field at Citizen’s Park.

I am old enough to know better than to suggest wrapping chains around your car’s tire the next time it snows.

I am old enough to know better than to think anyone on the room but me remembers Roger Freed’s grand slam or Bernie Carbo’s strong throws from the right field wall at the old Busch Stadium.

I am old enough to know better than to suggest that anyone put Mercurochrome on a scraped knee or soak a sore ankle in hot water and Epsom salt.

I am old enough to know better than to wish there’d be high school football games at the old Township Stadium in Belleville on Friday nights, or there’d be newspapers printed at 120 S. Illinois St.

I am old enough to know better than to explain why the Arizona Cardinals are my favorite football team.

I’m old enough to know better than to think that playing KSHE-95 real rock radio loudly on my car radio makes it 1977 again.

If you are lucky like me ...

I am old enough to know better than to think the Cardinals will make several big trades at the deadline. A solution? Pitching and defense wins pennants. Our good everyday players must play better.

I am old enough to know better than to say old-timer things like “the music is too loud” or “I can’t understand the lyrics” or “man, I wish they’d play more Neil Young or Tom Petty.”

When are you old enough to know better?

Someday, it you are lucky like me, you’ll know when you’re old enough to know better while you’re young enough to remember the candles.