Everywhere I go I find a pal


Peter Weinschenk, Editor, The Record-Review
It was 1967. I was an 11-year-old boy in a paisley shirt with a butch haircut.
That day I was hanging with my cousin Walter in his bedroom in a split-level home (which later burnt to the ground) in Baldwin, N.Y.
I looked up to Walter because he, being a little older than me, had a great record collection, including a large stack of ā45s.
That afternoon, we listened to St. Pepperās Lonely Hearts Club Band by the Beatles. The record was brand new.
One of the songs on the record is a jaunty, ragtime number called āWhen Iām Sixty Fourā where a youthful Paul McCartney speculates on life as a graying duffer.
I distinctly remember at that time in that bedroom that it was unthinkable that I could ever be that old.
Well, I was wrong. I am 64 years old today.
Itās been quite a ride. Iāve lived through wars, riots, droughts, hurricanes, earthquakes, impeachments and, most recently, a pandemic.
Thatās the price of living, I guess. You are part of history.
The fun thing, I think, is that my general approach to life hasnāt much changed since I was in high school. I still like making wisecracks. I am, possibly, a bit less sarcastic than I once was. Iāve mellowed.
I still think young. Thus I still look up to old people as a source of wisdom and experience. I still think they have something to teach me.
And, thus, hereās a dilemma that Paul McCartney never quite anticipated. I am 64 but I still wonder what itās going to be like when Iām old.
qqq
Hereās a shaggy dog story that starts with COVID-19 and ends with June is Dairy Month.
Part of our familyās way of coping with the pandemic is to order food online and pick our groceries up in the store parking lot. We do this at five different grocery stores.
Everyone is trying to do the right thing with this pick-up protocol, but the system is not perfect. Often the item selected online is not the item you get in your grocery bag. You learn to roll with it.
Last week, my wife, Susan, ordered a whole bunch of thick, whipping cream. None of that showed up. Instead, we received a large tub of premium vanilla ice cream.
My wife was disappointed that her order was not correctly fulfilled, but I wasnāt. I now have a lovely chunk of ice cream to spoon through during the entire summer.
The COVID-19 pandemic is dreadful, but there are, if you look for them, bright spots. I, for example, get vanilla ice cream. Thatās one way, I guess, to fight a virus.
Happy June is Dairy Month.