Numbers. They surround our lives. At every turn there's numbers. Yet, I'm not a numbers guy. After all, I've got a degree in English and was awful in math. Still, numbers loom everywhere. I've got 3 weeks, or 21 days, till 42. Actually, not much difference between 41 and 42. Fifty is still a ways off. But with 42 I realize: I beat Jesus by 9 years, Jim Morrison by 15. I've been out of high school for almost 25, college 20. Numbers. I hope the older one gets the less they really mean. And I really hope that once you get older older, they mean very little. I hope that the years passed, once you've reached silverdom, have actually been a wonderous thing as they have led you to some understanding, and eventually, happiness and contentment. I think they do, if only because of all the experiences lived throughout all those years. Yeah, that's how I'll deal with another birthday, with "numbers". We're like wine: we get better with age. (There's probably some 20-something reading this thinking, "damn, this guy's old". Just remember kid, you'll be here one day, though I know that's hard to believe right now.) Anyway, remember there's 24 hours each day, 60 minutes in each of those hours. Enjoy, they're only numbers. Take care. Later, Butch