Taking Stock

It's been argued that the difference between a forty-something gay man and a fourteen-year-old girl is a bank account. Or a fake ID.

I wonder if I can combine those now and have a fake bank account?

I've never been one to feel comfortable in the shoes of my age group. As a kid, I was always "old for my age." I went through my teen-age rebellion during my twenties and thirties (if in fact it's even finished).

And lately, I've been feeling very old. This has manifested itself with my latest hot beverage of choice.

Beef consommé. I've been going through about a bottle of Knorr's Touch of Taste a week lately. A couple teaspoons in a mug of boiling water ... delicious; 2-3 cups a night.

Okay then, I'm off to put on my flannel, do a little cross-stitching, listen to some Montivani albums and soak my dentures. A perfect Saturday night. Tomorrow I'm scheduled for a blue rinse. Then maybe I'll go feed the pigeons.

(Oh, and I ended up at bingo on Thursday night, which was spectacular.)