Those were the days my friend
It used to be that you could tell me that you wanted to sit up till the wee hours of the morning and debate the population boom while drinking bourbon and I wouldn’t flinch. I wouldn’t. Now I’m hard pressed to know what I even want to do on my birthday because it’s out with the old and in with the new (and I just happen to be part of the former). A friend posted some pics from Jazz Fest past and I saw myself as if I was someone else, back then that is.
Rachel go lightly, flirting my way through life and always ready to have a good time.
And now, the good times are being redefined. When was the last time I had a good time – well, last night in my living room, with a glass of Suhr Luchtel and friends on my right and left talking about our past, present and future. Ask me where my good time was had today, I’d say watching my son’s heartthrob crush on my friend’s fiancé – you could just see the stars in his four year old eyes. Tomorrow, what will my good times look like? I’ll just have to see now wont I?
Time is swiftly making its revolution around the sun, and I’m spinning right along with it. I guess I am thankful I’ve made it this far (that is if I get to Thursday), but truthfully I look at my younger self in photographs, and I see why my laugh lines are etched so deep in my face.
And I reckon that’s why they call me lucky if they call me at all.