I got caught in the tailwind of my old friend, Birthday, as he raced through another April. I admit that I lost my balance for an hour or two. “You’re old,” Birthday taunted as he flew past me on his way to outrun next year before I can blink.
“That’s not nice,” I shouted after him. “And besides, Old is the new New. Old, now that the Baby Boomers are on Medicare, is IN.”