Sometimes I completely forget how old I am. Not long ago, for instance, I was at the Austin City Limits music festival with my younger sister, listening to the Cure. The music truly swept me back to the Eighties, and I noticed a random guy dancing near me. In my festival gear—shorts, a peasant blouse, short pony boots, sunglasses and a straw cowboy hat (see photo above)—I thought I looked pretty cute. And maybe the guy did too because he started moving toward me.
He had graying hair and a budding beer belly, and I thought he might be close to my age (53 at the time). As he started shuffling toward me rocking his shoulders, I kind of matched my moves to his. I'm happily married and had no intention of picking him up; it's just that sharing the moment felt like such a rock festival thing to do.
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