Two Thousand Thirteen
The years keep rolling. The 60’s, The 70’s, The 80’s, the 90’s Doesn’t it seem that Y2K was just last year? ( Hey, what did we call the decade ending in 2010? The Aughts? My daddy might have said “Twenty aught one, Twenty aught two.) If you are reading this you survived the 2012 apocalypse. Now, what do we call the next seven years? The teens? That sounds ominous. This is the future that at one time in my life appeared so distant that it seemed unattainable. I was certain to never grow to be that old. But it was. And, I am. It is not what I thought it would be. I am disappointed in planes, trains, and automobiles. I am in awe of computer technology and medical science. I am grieved by the exclusion of formality and the derision of etiquette and respect. I am astonished by satellite, 9oo9le e@rth , and instant awareness. I am frightened when I look in the mirror. But I’m excited each morning that I am still a...
