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In this blog, I’ll be talking more about how to just live life as a human as you age. No retirement tips or diet suggestions here. Just honesty, perspective, and humor. Read on. If you subscribe, I promise not to overtake your inbox. I have other things to do.

This is a photo about a monkey—actually a Barbary macaque, which runs wild on the upper parts of Gibraltar. They got there from Africa, through the Strait of Gibraltar, off the coast of Spain. When we visited in 2019, we were warned many times not to open anything plastic that might crinkle, like a potato chip bag, because the monkeys would hear that and come for the treat. Not having chips with me, I didn't worry. I should have. As Joe, our son, and I were walking, I reached into my backpack for a Kleenex, forgetting it was in a plastic package. I had barely touched the pack before I had a little monkey wrapped around my leg. Josh shoed him off and the little guy ran away. Still, it was disconcerting. So, Joe and Josh continued the walk, and I turned around and did what I often do on our travels: looked for the bar. And there it was, with windows overlooking the rock and the Mediterranean. Sometimes I cannot believe my life, and enjoying a gin and tonic with this view, waiting to share it with the men I love, after an encounter with a monkey, that’s in the category of unbeatable. (I like how the drink glass turns the rock upside down too.)

A Barbary macaque on Gibraltar, pondering the monkey condition.

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