As I approach my 88th birthday, it’s become apparent to me that my eyes and ears, among other appurtenances, aren’t quite what they used to be. The prospect of long flights to wherever in search of whatever are not quite as appealing.

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.

In childhood, we yearn to be grown-ups. In old age, we yearn to be kids. It just seems that all would be wonderful if we didn't have to celebrate our birthdays in chronological order.

I remember when the candle shop burned down. Everyone stood around singing ’Happy Birthday.’

For my birthday I got a humidifier and a de-humidifier... I put them in the same room and let them fight it out.