AMERICA - DON’T VOTE FOR A 70 PLUS CANDIDATE

I am 73 years old and I am advising Americans to think twice about voting for a presidential candidate who is 70 years and older.  Political correctness declares that age should not be an issue, but honestly, it is.  President Obama's hair colour is an indicator of the onerous burdens of the office. He took office at age 44. Imagine the cumulative affects of national governance on a president whose best years are 20-30 years behind him. Of course Trump, if elected, will never grey out because his present hair colour is simulated. That should not dupe anyone. This office requires grey matter. The synaptic gaps in Trump's brain are already too far apart for responsible information transmission. All other Republican candidates are 65 years and younger. Of the Democratic candidates, Bernie Sanders is 75, Jim Webb is almost 71 and Joe Biden who will soon declare his candidacy, is 74. Hillary will turn 70 before the presidential election and she gives evidence now that she should consider a position no loftier than co-host of The View.

I AM A SEPTUAGENARIAN ACTION FIGURE

It's September 13th, and once again as it does every year, my birthday celebration has arrived. This year the day has substantially more significance for me, in that while I have been enjoying a few of the perks of my senior classification, I am now a confirmed codger. I have turned 70 years of age today. I am a septuagenarian. Can you see the numerical French root 'sept' in yet another English term?

The term might be used in the following manner but I will not let this be true of me, 'He sat there, a portly septuagenarian sunk deeply into a leather chair." Rather, I intend it be said of me, "Ron was the first septuagenarian action figure." I may have a long way to go since although I go to the gym each morning at 6 AM, I am failing to lose any significant weight. My tummy although still muffin topped is hard. Because of that, although Christine knows that I leave for the gym, she suspects I am stopping for a fast-food breakfast.

The world continues to be obsessed with youth and beauty and success and that won't change. The fashion world gravitates to 20-somethings and that too is predictable. However, I have earned my sartorial stripes and I am a fabulous septuagenarian as is my wife Christine. Our style is timeless and it has little to do with fashion or skin-care. We are simply sensational and have the confidence to prove it. We own our looks and at 70, I am cool.

What a Wonderful 70th Birthday I had.
I went to the gym, shopped for a rose bush and a plum tree, took my grandchildren and daughter Cari for after-school pre-dinner ice cream cones at Andy’s in White Rock, walked the beach, came home for aperitifs & Lasagna supper with my family (11 of us) courtesy of Christine, my requested dessert (my mother’s Egg Custard Pie Recipe) went on a scavenger hunt organized by my grandchildren, sat while family read blessings to me capped with a prayer, then to each of my children’s home to plant the rose bush and the plum tree. And all children to bed. And then the grand finale, a serendipity … en route home I decided to drive past our old home and there we saw our kitchen stove, only 3 years old sitting on the front lawn available to any claimant of garbage collector … nothing wrong with it … so, I quickly returned to my son Jeff’s place, we hooked up his utility trailer, picked up the stove and delivered it to a family with four small children whom we knew could benefit by having it.