Last week, a couple of months before my 93rd birthday, a man selling me a small household component said, “It’ll last a lifetime.”
“Only that long?” I thought.
But perhaps I’m being too pessimistic. The local library has just renewed my card. The new expiration date? December 2037!
Now that’s what I call a lifetime. It even beats Frank Sinatra’s famous prophecy:
“If you should survive
To a hundred and five,
Think of all you’ll derive
Just from being alive.”
Still, I can’t help wondering if it’s not just another scam: if I’m not around to take my books back, sixteen years of overdue fines would pay off the civic debt.
First published in Colorado Boulevard.
Photo credit: Martin Green