On reaching the "Beatle" age

That would be - 64.   It's a number that makes it difficult (very difficult!) to cling to the idea that I'm merely "upper middle age", and a recent bout of unexplained shoulder bursitis in a joint that has never had a problem before makes the gradual deterioration of bits and pieces of the body undeniable.

But hey, lots of things still interest me, the family is (mostly) healthy and (mostly) happy, and (maybe) there's another 25 - 30 years of relative good health, and thinking about stuff, to go.   (That's how long most on my mother's side have lived, anyway.  Not all in the greatest of health, though.)

I have felt a bit odd lately thinking that I am of an age at which I feel I can write off ever visiting certain places - Africa has never held much interest, for example, although that new museum in Egypt does look good.   I guess if you live forever, you would just never write off a continent as a place you would never visit, like I am starting to now.

So, what am I trying to say - getting into my 60's has finally made me start to think that I'll die one day?   Yes, I suppose that's true, which seems a bit of a downer on which to end a birthday post.  Instead, I can amuse myself by imagining that AI has probably already reached a good enough level that, if fed this entire blog, a reasonable simulation of me could go on blogging forever.  Or, at least, until Google stop supporting Blogger...:)