We all reach a certain age where we can remember exactly what we did, said, and felt on any particular day thirty or so years ago, but forget where we parked the car last night. This occurred to me at the age mark of 57, and not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I am going to ride this wagon till the damn wheels fall off. How many times has each of us been told that we should write a book after relaying this or that odd thing that occurred in our lives? I just did.
