Old

It was my birthday Saturday. The wind was incredibly irritating; I finally ventured out of my house at about 4pm, walked a block and a half and was nearly blown over and immediately returned to the house. That futile excursion helped put me into a foul food, not much aided by dwelling on my advanced age and lack of life accomplishments. Fortunately, the wind died down by early evening and I was able to enjoy my evening out at Tango with friends/family and gorged myself on Queso Fundido and other Spanish nibbles. It was my second consecutive night of Hibernian treats; I went to Olivar, the new Spanish restaurant across from the Harvard Exit, on Friday night with my friends Lou and Barbara. The food there is quite good, and the prices aren't bad, (dinner for four, w/o wine was $120) but the acoustics are horrible; we sat next to a very loud table of four and had a difficult time listening to our own conversation. Oh, and the place is popular; they were able to squeeze us in at 8.30pm but only barely so apparently it's a place where it might be good to make reservations if you're going on a weekend.

The picture is a clue to my great age...among other things.