Summer

Summer has been everything a man could want. Skirts are shorter than they have been in a long time, shorts are skimpy, and the necklines are amazing. Fabrics are soft and diaphanous.

I'm no romeo; in fact, I'm really out of the running. Summer comes every year, but I've been in autumn for a while, heading toward winter. I'm still not blind, thank goodness.

And I like to think my mind is young. I'm sixty now, and I just got my first tattoo last Wednesday. I'm getting lots of compliments, even from young women. I know the compliments are just for the tattoo, but I like them anyway.