The longer I live, the shorter life gets.
It’s a truism, I suppose, and one of many which occur to humans as the years roll by. See, I started Slope as a pure-brown-haired lad in my 30s. As Slope now commences its 20th (God help me……..) year, the temples are greying, the teeth are decaying, and creditors are weighing my purse. Well, no, only the first of those is true, but I could not help letting a little Broadway slip into my off-the-cuff musings.
Prior to 2005, March 29th was just another day in the year, but now, every year, I think about what I’m going to write on the birthday of my electronic child. I was especially concerned this year since, frankly, I’ve never felt more despondent, more angst-ridden, more (dare I say it?) hopeless about the prospects we’ll ever see a real stock market again.
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