man turns forty. life's midpoint, perfect for looking janus-like, forward and back. man throws birthday party. a host of friends arrive, wish him well, presents, food, drinks all round. no one is merely polite, everyone meant to turn up. old friends make the effort, newer friends make the effort. everyone is happy, man is happy.
it's a good measure of a person's worth - genuine friendships. i'd argue against success, wealth, fame etc as indicators. a man makes things count when he makes them count for people.
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