Two score and one year ago, I dropped wheezing into the world, asthmatic, nearly blind, but sporting a luxurious pelt of dark hair (that would begin to abandon me about twenty years later). I yet wobble and creak about--as much as old folk can expect.
Also, this here blog now exits the terrible twos and will, on the day a new president takes the helm, turn three.
Happy birthday to us.
[Update. In the Facebook age, I've gotten in touch with some long-lost friends from years back. One of the earliest sent this. I'm the skinny one in the stylish glasses in the back row--call it portrait of the blogger as a young hoopster. Photo must be circa 1978.]
Hard Cider: The Full Court Press
9 hours ago