My sister and I eating beanie weenies and wonder bread sandwiches on a cardboard box on our way back to Florida from Oklahoma, 1963.

Next month I will turn 65.

As with most of my peers, I am wondering wtf? Where did the time go? My Aunt Shirley once told me, when she looked in the mirror she wondered, “who is that old woman?”

I grew up in the 50’s and 60’s, which means we were pretty much on our own.  No safety regulations, consumer product testing, common sense or mommy guilt. And, no cell phones.

We played outside all day until the street lights came on, and our parents had no idea where we were or what we were doing. I don’t remember them ever asking or caring, as long as we were out of the house. As a teenager and young adult, they were lucky if they got a phone call once a week from the phone booth.

We were such a resilient bunch.  Safety was for wimps. Let’s catch some rays (maybe with a little baby oil and iodine), go surfing without safety straps on our surfboards, and seat belts fastened in our cars.

How did we ever survive without social pressure to do the right thing?

So when I can’t remember your name, or find myself in another room not knowing why,  It’s not my age and it’s definitely not my fault.

Its Not My Fault, words and music by Casey Conerly