time (like yesterday) that I fill out the year of my birth on the Customs Form,
I think, "Whoah! 1951! That number feels like a long, long time ago!!" And
it is! The new conversations amongst my peer group, after the ritual sharing of
aches and pains, is “How did we get to be so old!” We’re all perpetually surprised, but why should we be? The
price of living long is getting old. Ain’t no other way that I know of. But
here I am, grabbing life by its tail and swinging it around with a "Yeehah!"
even if I slightly pull my muscle on my rotator cuff while doing it!
filling out the form on the plane, I had a moment of blanking on what year this
is. 2015? How did that happen? Wasn’t it just yesterday that we were all so
amazed about the year 2000— and afraid that computer failure would end the
world? Then I looked at my birth year and this year and realized that as of
this moment, I’m a living palindrome. 51-15. What
does that mean?
it means that it’s 4:30 in the jet-lagged morning in a rainy Raleigh, North
Carolina and since I can’t get back to sleep, I might as well think about
strange little things like 51-15 and ponder the meaning of longevity. And make
you, the reader, wonder whether you missed your living palindrome year and if
your life was the poorer because of it. Just sayin’.