Consider the alternative

A while back, when Kentucky Fried Chicken updated its logo and began calling itself KFC, they also altered the presentation of founder Colonel Harland Sanders. He now wears a chef’s apron and, I swear, looks younger than he used to.

Or maybe it’s because I’m getting older. I recently celebrated my 70th birthday so I’ve now had my biblical three score and ten. I know I’m no spring chicken, but I don’t feel 70, either. Until some young man in his early 20s offers me his seat on the subway. I always accept. Might as well enjoy the fruits of my years because I can’t say I’ve become any wiser with the passage of time. But I can still walk for miles, do my daily yoga and continue to get up at 4 a.m. to write my books as I’ve done for the last thirty years.

A few things, however, have changed. I cry at movies. I no longer read stories about the sudden death of a child; I’ve had enough heartbreak of that sort. I’ll give a book 50 pages and if it doesn’t grab me I’ll start another. 

Meanwhile, let others worry about aging. No hair dye for me. Unlike George Burns, I buy green bananas. I could die in twenty hours or live another twenty years. Not knowing which outcome will prevail adds a certain frisson to your life and reminds you to enjoy every day to the full. Which I do. 



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