July 1990: David and I, when we were skinny, traveling in Croatia. These photos have no connection to the essay below. I just posted them for fun.
David and I have been dining out quite frequently, because I am just too lazy to cook. Last night, we dined at a Vietnamese restaurant. I had pho (noodle soup), and David had the barbecue mixed plate. The night before last, we went to a Korean restaurant. David had beef curry, and I had chicken katsu curry. Curry is not Korean cuisine, but the chef/owner of the restaurant is Korean and he knows how to appeal to local taste buds here in Hawaii.
This type of food costs less than $10.00 per person, so we don’t have to rob a bank to pay for it.
Since turning 70 years of age last week, I have been asking myself how many more years I have to live. All I can go by is my parents’ longevity. Their 70s were fine. Mom traveled the world every year, and Dad gardened every day. It was in their mid-80s, when all hell broke loose. Dad died of cancer at age 87, and Mom had full-blown dementia at age 86 (though she passed away at age 99). So, I can only assume that my 70s will be as good as theirs, but, like them, something bad will happen to me in my 80s.
Well, whatever my life span is, I intend to enjoy the rest of my life.