Jim Bunny Rogers Rabbits www.sunlive.co.nz

'You poor thing!” – he would get it all the time, all his life.
That's because of a quirk of fate, a quirk of dates.
He was born Christmas Day – the least popular day in New Zealand to be born, only just ahead, or behind Boxing Day and New Year's Day. And people would say: 'Oh, dear, you poor thing!”
People who thought he had been cheated, deprived, or damaged, by his birth date.
Life started cruelly and it carried on being cruel.
Like when he tried to seize back a little normality by having a 30th birthday party, his first and only party, on Jesus' birthday, for heaven's sake.
What was this heretic thinking, stealing the limelight from the son of God?
Anyhow he tells the story well. 'It was Christmas Day so only the damned, the desperate and the dysfunctional stayed any length of time. Everyone else just popped in on the way to, or from, other important Christmas engagements. It was a disaster.”
The birthday boy never again attempted a birthday celebration on the day. 'Oh dear, you poor thing.” The birthday boy is my brother – he's #3 of #4. Artistic, clever, successful, happy, kind and lovely to a fault. We actually worked together for many years – same company, different disciplines.
When one woman colleague discovered we were brothers she remarked quizzically 'but HE is so nice!” How do you answer that, short of violence?

A permanent scar
The remark left a permanent scar.
I will tell you now that I developed a certain self-centred resentment towards Bro over his birthday. As kids, Mum would ensure he has his moment in the astrological sun. The Christmas cake suddenly grew candles and became a birthday cake, there were birthday presents and we sang happy birthday. I didn't share the spirit – all the time I was thinking how dare this cute, little, curly blond upstart commandeer Christmas Day for his own personal gratification? Surely Christmas Day is all about me, my presents, my fun?
While on presents – here's another sore point for the Bro. 'I do find it interesting how easy it is for some people to use the day to ‘give' just ONE present. Usually there's a Merry Christmas/Happy Birthday card attached...as if that suffices! Well it doesn't.
'Hullo Christmas Grinchs. I noticed.”
Can't you feel the hurt?
'You poor thing.”
Then…THEN… as he points out, he has to wait a full 365 days, a whole year, 366 days in a Leap Year, for his birthday/Christmas to come around again. I never thought of that. 'It's the longest a human has to wait between these two events.
'I developed patience at a very early age.”
'Poor thing.”
My Bro's uniqueness is supported by the stats. Apparently between 30 per cent and 40 per cent fewer babies are born on December 25 than on the peak production days of the year. September 29 is the biggest. Is it because almost no Caesarean births are set down by doctors for holidays and weekends, even though Caesarean sections have increased to record levels during the past 11 years – nearly one-third of all births.
And even with vaginal births, doctors can induce which helps dictate when babies are born. You can bet inductions won't happen when doctors want to be on the golf course or partying up with family and friends on Christmas Day.
And even though it's not a public holiday, parents don't want their babies born on April Fool's Day to be mocked, taunted and bullied for the rest of their lives.
Bro is one of about 9700 New Zealanders who celebrate their birthday on Christmas Day. And he can take comfort and pride that he sparkles amongst the glitterati also born on Christmas Day. There's Bogie – actor and cultural icon, Humphrey DeForest Bogart. What a great name.
There was the assassinated third president of Egypt, Anwar Sadat, the ‘Naked Civil Servant' Quentin Crisp, Louis Chevrolet who co-founded the eponymous car manufacturing company, and Annie Lennox, Justin Trudeau and Boris Johnson.
Bro is certainly special amongst special people. And because of Christmas Day, he is still ‘intact'.

Below the belt
Now this part of his story is very personal, very intimate. You may choose to look away, or wince and bear it.
It's about finding a Mohel on Christmas Day – a Jew trained in brit milah, the covenant of circumcision – or an obstetrician or paediatrician willing to give up Christmas Day to attack someone's manhood.
'My three brothers were all circumcised, including my father.”
Too much information I feel.
People will start giving me creepy looks.
But carry on…
'The doctor who usually did the operation was already on holiday when I was born Christmas Day and I was home and out of the hospital system when he returned. I therefore escaped this surgical procedure.
'However, my unique ‘uncut look' in that department was a minor childhood embarrassment within the family experience. As an adult I'm appreciative I have remained ‘intact' but I still retain that sensitivity to being naked among others.
'What a Christmas bonus.”
Bro is an upbeat kind of guy, always sees the positive. He insists he still enjoys his birthday on his birthday. 'Really? You poor thing.” Two presents being couriered to you as we speak Bro.