Bad Medicine Must Make 'em Think They Have A Prayer

Husband and I attended Midsummer Night Swing at Lincoln Center last night for a disco night. As much fun as it was doing the hustle, it was equally fun watching men of a certain age hustle and try to swing. Some of these guys were very good dancers, too. Still, observing a guy who was probably in his mid-70s, wearing a brown printed silky shirt, a thick gold chain, sunglasses (even after the sun set), and a panama hat put his moves on women in their 20s and 30s was highly entertaining. Eventually, he settled for a woman who was in her late 40s or early 50s, but also an excellent dancer.

I asked Husband if he planned to haunt the stage for action after I died. He looked at me with genuine horror in his eyes, and frowned. "That's not going to happen," he said earnestly. We are going to die together when we are very elderly. We can hold hands."

Tonight, we are heading to Central Park for a free Bon Jovi concert presented as part of the All-Star Game festivities. There were 67,000 tickets issued, and the Great lawn only holds 50,000, so we are not sure if we will get in. My sinuses are killing me, so I didn't want to get there more than a few hours early, although it is a perfect July day.