Turning 65

How do you know Shelly Smith? Is the question to the answer about friends in and around the Duke city of course circa 2009 which is creeping creepily forward to the great debacle of 2012 of which we are all one and (the rest) waiting for with and without a baited breath! It means what are we waiting for? Well the great question is looming but having a great and wonderful evening out with pscychiatrist friend and translator Florian made a good night. Naturally at Il Vicino the in-crowd 'joint' on Route 66 and being put to the pscychometry of a questionaire as well as meeting up with Wilmer (aka Bill) the surgeon and cricket/rugby fiend with Jack the brother and arch-actor, dramatist and benevolent poet at large being present. Turning 65 is like turning 75 or 15 quite honestly not a lot of difference, mentally that is, between the different slots along the allotted path of fate, fortune, and whatever else is in the can of worms about to explode in our errant faces. Notice we didn't use the word (I forget which word) but it was used by a brazilian recently at a lecture and she had an amazingly British accent. The reason I can't rememeber the word that is. Keep watching and reading for some amazing translations into the Czech language coming up next...