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WHERE DOES THE TIME GO?
Where does the time go, yeah, where? Here I am, pushing 80, and there still aren't enough hours in the day. Sure, everything takes longer today than it did. Some times it takes a minute or two just to get out of a chair and move ten feet across the room. Putting a book back on the bookshelf, or putting a tape in the VCR seems to be a major chore now, and yet for my age, I don't think I am in the worst shape one can be in. As long as the mind keeps functioning, all's okay. When that becomes too loaded up, don't count on me staying around.

I went to Santa Barbara today to conduct a Veteran's meeting, and looking around the room at all us old guys hobbling around, man. Jim Higman is 87 and he is as spry and alert as anyone can be. He and his wife are flying to Turkey in May. Jim's an old merchant seaman, began shipping out in the 1930's. My first discharge paper from a merchant ship is dated 1941, but I was only 16 then. These men, though, all with memories of a by-gone era, don't like many of the changes they see today. The lack of respect for the flag, government, and the laws both them considerably. More than that, the lack of patriotism worries them. They went through a lot to protect our liberty and those of European and Asian countries, and they'd all do it again without hesitation, but there is little solace in that when you read of student attitudes today.

I drove to Santa Barbara yesterday too, to go to church. Tomorrow I have to go over the pass again, to see the doctor. Here it is two a.m. and I need to get some rest. Before I head for S.B., I have to drive 20 miles in the other direction to do a TV show and I've not done one bit of work on it yet. Tomorrow morning is going to be a hassle.

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