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I find as I grow older…as I watch the world unfold despite losing hair and gaining wrinkles…I don’t often feel old. Oh sure I know there were skills I had when I was young that I somehow today lack and I’m not often sure when I look in the mirror who’s that old guy looking back and sometimes that smile that occupies my face can turn into a frown when I realize it’s much harder getting up from the floor…that it was getting down. But for the most part I’m happy with my age, with who I am…where I’ve come from and as long as I am feeling happy…I say let the aches and wrinkles come! But the other day in the book store a thought occurred to me that the young man I like to think I am is not the young man other people see. A young family asked about our building commenting on its beauty…remarking on it’s style So I told them a little about it’s history How it had been here for a while… I told them there’s a plaque out front to remind us of this building’s glory on it is the original owner’s name and a summary of it’s story I told them it used to be a movie theater In the 1920’s…way back when It was here the youngest member of the family asked “Were you working here back then?” Everyone within earshot chuckled (my laughter was more controlled) as I wondered did she really think I looked 100 years old? I imagine children have a hard time determining age… perhaps this is a skill they lack… anyway….the next time someone asks about this building I’ll just tell them… read the plaque.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 8/7/2019 5:53:00 AM
Really well put together Jim and am poem I can relate to! Excellent stuff. Like your style of writing Sir! Best wishes RT
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