Evidence..

that the AARP people were right to solicit me.  I'm repeating myself.  :)

There's this poem I like about poetry being the ash of life, the residue left after a life is well-burned.  I have it on a stickie gadget on my Mac desktop, which I look at every day, and I thought I ought to write a blog post about how big my pile of ash is getting.  ;)

So I'm sitting here typing, and... hey.  Wait.  This sounds familiar. 

Then, a quick blog search, and... a-yup.  It should be.  I have written about this before.  More than once, apparently.

Jeepers.  It's like some old guy with a favorite story that he tells to all the children at their birthdays every year.  And even though they can finish his sentences for him, he's so enamored at his wit and wisdom that he always thinks it's new to them.  Yikes!   

AARP has put me on guard here.  At least I caught myself this time.

Pass the ginko biloba, man.  I need to stay sharp.  

:P