Missed opportunities, childish instincts revealed
I was thinking of the time when I was 13, sitting on the tall steps of our girls’ dormitory at Acadia Baptist Academy on the prairie out from Church Point, in south Louisiana, with my friends as we projected our futures.
I announced that I planned to be very, very old; possibly living to be 79, which meant I would still be alive at the turn of the 20th century, 2000. They laughed, which was fine, since I said it to be funny. That year was 1934.