APRIL 1957 VS MAY 1956

I know, I know, you're as old/young as you feel. But after six straight hours of being waitress/busboy/assistant cook/dishwasher/gossipee (hey, did I just invent another new word?), I feel a hundred million billion centuries old. Maybe even a couple of days more than that.

But then when I discover the owner of the place where I spent afore-mentioned six straight hours is almost exactly one year YOUNGER than I am....

Well, she handled six straight hours of cooking much better than I did with my chores. But she has obviously had a lot more hard years than I have had. But it's still sobering to realize, man, I must getting up there in years and probably AM a hundred million billion centuries to some of the young people I know. I do know I can get away with flirting with much younger guys, because they do NOT take me seriously. I have the wrinkles and laugh-lines, and am finally catching up with the grey hair.

So concentrate on the good stuff, concentrate on the good stuff... you're only as old as you feel, you're only as old as you feel....

And now that the television has switched over to 'paid programming', and two grey OLD looking dudes are taking about 'the beginnings of soft rock' WAY BACK in the 70's when THEIR bank debuted.... it's time for me to go to bed... and rest my OLD bones/

(I think I just had a heart attack - my second child called to say good-night, and asked if we could talk some time about BIRTH CONTROL. Don't panic, don't panic, take slow, deep breaths...)