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When I’m 64… Sheesh

I could be handy, mending a fuse When your lights have gone You can knit a sweater by the fireside Sunday mornings, go for a ride Doing the garden, digging the weeds Who could ask for more? Will you still need me, will you still feed me When I'm sixty-four? When I’m Sixty-Four — The Beatles, from “Magical Mystery Tour   I have long anticipated poaching those lyrics on this day, though I haven’t been in a hurry to arrive here. No sense rushing matters. But today, Aug. 23, I turn 64. To continue lyrical larceny, what a long strange trip it’s been. Sixty-four. Jeez....

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