Thirty two years ago today, I was in New Orleans doing
what most people do when they go to that city.
I got drunk.
It was an easy thing to do after inducing three barloads of people
to sing Happy Birthday and ply me with free alcohol.
I had never seen any of those wonderful people before
nor have I seen any of them since.
I was in the process of moving from New York to California.
For one year, I could tell people my age was a "perfect fifth"
as in 2x2x2x2x2
You can do the math.
I was only eighteen when I first heard this song
By far, the easiest song to sing along to on the Beatles'
Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band album
but When I'm Sixty-Four was also the most irrelevant.
It was impossible for a teenager in 1967
to conceive of ever reaching that age.
Sometimes, inconceivable things happen.
And now I am a "perfect sixth"
I would rather think in terms of having
four inner sixteen year-olds.