Tuesday was my birthday. Go ahead, everybody say it – Happy Birthday, Duane! That’s right, me and Abe Lincoln share a birthday although I still have quite a bit to go to outdo his being elected president, freeing the slaves and even patenting an invention. Yep, Honest Abe invited a device that lifted boats over shoals and obstructions in the water. He is the only president to register an invention.

I haven’t invented anything and the only election I ran in, I lost badly. Although, it should be noted Lincoln lost his first bids for office. However, in his case, he kept trying. As for me, I’m one and done. I don’t want anything to do with politics ever again.

There is one thing I do have on our 16th president, though. I have two birthdays. Yep, every year I get bombarded with birthday wishes over the internet but most of them aren’t on Feb. 12. Actually, most of the world knows my birthday to be Feb. 1. Why? Well, unlike Honest Abe, I’m not that honest.

Years ago when I first joined what we know as social media, I was not that trusting. I had been warned there are cyber stalkers out there who look to take advantage of people on the net by stealing their identities. Therefore, when I signed up for Facebook I took the liberty of modifying my birth date by a few days.

I wasn’t doing this to be straight-up dishonest. Instead, I was doing it to protect my privacy. I didn’t want some hacker out there using my birth date to create a false identity to buy him a Mercedes and a home in the hills at my expense. I figured if I fudged just a bit and put my birthday as Feb. 1, what would it hurt? I mean, who cares they are a couple of weeks off?

However, the flaw to my logic began popping up and has continued popping up every Feb. 1 as I get torrents of birthday wishes. I mean it is great that people remember (although Facebook prompts you to remember friends’ birthdays). But, at the same time I feel a little guilty about it plus I’m getting cheated out of 12 days of being a younger age. When you get to my advanced age, every day counts. Actually, for those wondering, I’m a young 54. I actually feel in better shape now than I was at 24. I’m certainly better looking anyway.

At this point I’m too ashamed to change my birth date. How do I explain my paranoia to all my online friends out there? No, instead, I’m committed to celebrating two birthdays from now on. Those who know me well know about my dirty little birthday secret and get a kick out of it.

“Happy Fake Birthday!” their messages read on my Facebook, letting me know they are in on my ruse. It’s just too bad they don’t send me two gifts. But then, on second thought, the first gift would be fake just like my fake birthday, wouldn’t it?