I sat at a stoplight yesterday.
Across the intersection from me, stopped in facing traffic, a driver caught my eye. She was probably in her late seventies, maybe even her eighties, and she drove a Lincoln Towncar. Her hair was perfectly coiffed in a jet-black 'do.
Evidently there was some fine music blaring in her car, because she drummed vigorously on her steering wheel. And she sang. And she bounced her head in time to the music.
Maybe it was some big-band tunes that she danced to decades ago, and the memories carried her away.
Or maybe Gwen Stefani has an over-sixty contingency.
Whatever it was, it lit her up. And it made me smile. Good for you, I thought, reaching over to turn up the volume of my cheesy 80's tunes to shameless levels. Rockin' on with you, sister.