When I’m 64…

Well, here we are in the closing weeks of Fred’s Birthday Season…

I suppose I should explain that.

My darling wife, Amy, was concerned that after New Years there was nothing to look forward to in New England until spring, except miserable cold. To that end she christened the time between January 2 and the first blooming of the Forsythia bushes as Fred’s Birthday Season. Now, my birthday is February 10th and a number of years ago she started Fred’s Birthday Week as a result of an overactive celebratory gene. This is simply a change in duration. Please make a  note on your calendars.

We (read : wonderful wife Amy) have a card problem. And I’m not talking about sitting in a casino playing Pai Gow with a bunch of skinny, chain smoking Vietnamese guys.


She believes the old adage “Why give one card when two is better…or three…or four”. I am sure that at least a couple of acres of prime forest land has been sacrificed to honor my special day or days, as the case may be.

So here I am burning through my 63th year as a new member of the baby-aspirin-a-day club. No, nothing wrong with my heart…but, well, you know, at your age…

(brief intermission while I play Foxy Lady with the amp cranked to 10)

There, I feel better now.

Let’s see..oh yes, the dreaded follow up to “Yes Sir” … “ well, at your age”.
Fortunately the salutation “Yes Sir” directed to persons more mature has all but disappeared. But now I find myself hearing a comment on my seemingly advanced age from the doctor’s office to the paintball arena.
Now I can relate to all the “old guys” I remember seeing explode at that phrase – wildly swinging their crutches and going on about the charge up San Juan Hill..but I digress.

I learned something new today.

I’m not talking about how to operate some new technological whizbang or how to code a Miley Cyrus smiley face.

Here ya go folks…

I’ve been driving since I was 16 and was only made aware of this recently.gas guage

In the picture on the left (yes, I know it’s the gas gauge) – see the little drawing of the gas pump? See the little arrow?

That tells you what side of the car the gas tank is on!!

I’m willing to bet there are a lot more of you saying “Really?” than there are saying “Well, duh!”.


There you go – no more leaning out of the door in a rental car trying to see if the tank is on your side. See? An old dog can learn new tricks.


And speaking of old dogs…we have a sure sign of spring as Bingo takes up sleeping on the coffee table again.


Until next time…


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