I ran into my buddy Ricky at the park this afternoon, actually the last person I saw there before going on that health kick. He's a crusty old dude, biker, trucker, long white beard with eyes that have seen everything Tennessee has to offer.
He smokes Marlboro and rolls a few joints for the day every morning when he rolls out of bed. He's 57 and has pretty much given up on life outside of what he's got. He will live until he dies, with 145 proof moonshine in the evening to help him along the way.
We connected today on a deep level. I told him about quitting smoking when I turned fifty and how it changed my life. Hell, he still has time to change, but he really chooses not to, and accepts it totally. I get it.
Later when I got home I asked Alexa what 2021 minus 1967 was and she said 54, my daughters age...