58 but who’s counting?

Last month I experienced my 58th birthday. How did this happen? More importantly, what can we do about it?

I’m thinking of calling one of those personal injury attorneys who advertise on TV. There’s bound to be someone I can sue. I was just minding my own business, your honor, when out of the blue, this guy came up behind me and — wham! — next thing I know I was 58 years old.

I never prepared for this to happen. Much of my life attitude was formed during the 1960s, and I came of age during the Vietnam War. I learned never to trust anyone over 30 and to assume they’d manage to kill me off before I had to worry about being absorbed into their numbers.

Every year since about 1974 has come as something of a surprise. I didn’t expect to be here this long. And now I’m pushing 60. Somebody needs to pay.


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