Remember the Infamous cigarette machine? There was a time when they were in every restaurant and practically on every street corner. Thank goodness those days are over. If I recall, a pack was a quarter back in the 60s. What are they today? About $5?
I let the stupidest non-issues get on my last nerve and turn me into a raging termagant which, for your information, is the female version of an old curmudgeon.
Remember that word “termagant” because if you’re female you’re probably carrying the gene. The condition begins to present itself with advancing age and loss of the inhibitions which once kept us civil and gave us the reputation as “sweet young things.” The aging beauty can turn into the beast if you get her riled up. But hey, it is what it is, right?
You’re maybe seven or eight and just getting to the stage where other people are trying to impose their expectations on you.. (You can’t possibly be a fire-woman, what would grandma think?)
What advice would the old geezer in you (who has been around the block a few times) give that innocent little child whose experience was limited only by his/her imagination.
I vacillate between thinking that I’m at the cutting edge of technology (after all I CAN use a microwave) to the opposite end of the scale where it seems everybody is running and I’m limping along at the end of the line with a bent cane.
The eternal, world-without-end-amen stream of data is beginning to wear on me.