A young 22 year old friend at work came to my room near the last day of school, and said she had a pair of sneakers her grandmother had bought but hadn't worn. Would I like to have them? Sure! I said.
Then it hit me. How far away I am now from being 22 myself. I'm actually less than 22 years away from the end of life span (according to the bible, age 70) than I am to first starting out, like my friend is. And when I received the sneakers, I loved them. Oy, I'm grandma age now.
A day or so later I was driving down the road. I had on an oldies radio station, tagline "Music to Your Years." Ha ha, catchy pun. The 1968 song "Do You Know the Way to San Jose" by Dionne Warwick came on and I sang along. I remember lyrics from nearly 50 years ago but not what I had for breakfast yesterday. Anyway I was singing, and thinking, "Hmmm, this is a pretty decent song..." Then it hit me.
I made fun of that song when I was 8 years old I derided it in my mind, and wondered heavily how on earth my mother and father could like it. Why not some Beatles? The Fifth Dimension? Creedence Clearwater? That San Jose song is so old.
Now that I'm old the song seems young.
Time marches on. Boy does it ever...