Today I heard the Moody Blues invitation to ride their seesaw. I heard it in the same place I heard it originally, the room that was my bedroom in 1968 and is now our office. And aren't seesaws a metaphor for life? You go up and down, and you end up right where you started.
Yesterday Karen and I went to a financial advisor. He told us that I could retire right now, and we could have a pretty rocking life style.
Then at 3:30 this morning, the police rang our doorbell. Once again, someone was going through cars on our street. Since our glove box was open, the officer wanted to know if anything had been stolen. "I don't know what it would be, it's all been stolen already, " I said.
After I got back in bed, I couldn't fall back to sleep because I was thinking about something I hadn't really considered that the advisor had said. We would be fine until I turned 85 and we ran out of money. It had sounded pretty good, and I wasn't planning on living to 85 anyway. But what if do?