old but not dead

Sunblock is gross, but handy

During our now legendary “heat dome” event that unofficially ended yesterday (today’s high was a relatively bone-chilling 27C) I opted to do something I almost never do–wear sunblock. And it worked really well. Even as I strolled about in 42C heat and sweated like a very sweaty person, I remained burn-free and am as shimmeringly pale as ever. You’d never know I’d been out of my ice cave!

Anyway, I feel like I am somehow getting more sensible as I get older. Will sunblock leave my exposed skin feeling vaguely sticky and gross? Will dust, grit and small animals adhere to it as I spend time outdoors? The answer is yes, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s better and healthier to avoid a nasty sunburn. Sensible!

I’m also thinking about getting new socks and underwear. I won’t say the prospect of this excites me, exactly, but it is perhaps a little enticing.

Don’t worry, though, I still don’t see bingo as an entertaining recreational activity. Yet.

300 is a magic number

The Rolling Stones have started a summer tour, promising to play classic hits.

Their collective age is 300. Keith Richards alone is 200. He learned to play on a coal-fired guitar. Just kidding. He learned on a Stratocaster.

And he’s only 75.

I have to admire The Stones for heading out when they clearly don’t need the money—though they will make truckloads of it. Jagger just had heart surgery three months ago and yet there he was on opening night, prancing about the stage like he was only 50. Which is the new 30, I think.

He’s also 75.

I hope to be prancing about on a stage or at least somewhere that isn’t a retirement home when I’m 75.

Truckloads of money would be nice, too, though optional.