We’re born, we live, and we die, and somewhere in between, old age sneaks up on us

Well, 2026 took another one.
We add Tim Curry to the list.

2026 has felt like an especially rough year for losing familiar faces.
By late August, more than 50 famous actors, singers, and musicians had already died.
To be fair, many of them were in that seventy‑plus age range.
But still, dang.

I won’t start worrying until Gen X names begin to die off, like Jennifer Aniston, Marilyn Manson, and the rest.

You don’t truly notice how much time has gone by until the familiar faces from the big and small screens, and the voices you grew up hearing on the radio, start passing away.
Then they give their birthdates, and you think, oh my gosh, were they really that old?!

If my mom were still alive, she would be 83 years old now, though.

It feels like the Boomer generation is slipping out, and now Gen X is stepping in.
Holy cow, we’re the old ones now.

I'm going to move on.

It's bad enough when I look in the mirror; there's a fat old woman looking back at me instead of the thin, brown‑haired young thing I still think I am, until the aches and pains hit.
I don't need any reminders that I'm very much mortal.

Cowboy had a very early doctor appointment.
I didn't go with him.
He'd only had four hours of sleep, and you couldn't pay me to go on the interstate during rush hour traffic with a half‑asleep Cowboy.

He got back at 10:30 a.m. and went to bed. He actually went to bed and not his recliner in the living room. That was a little odd. We didn't see him again until 2:41 p.m. I can make a long post a little shorter.
We spent the entire day in front of the TV.
I think my rear end is so numb from sitting, it ain't funny.
But it was just one of those days, we really didn't want to move.
It happens.

I'm getting off here.