I was visiting with Granny Applehead the other day.  She was telling me about being a flower child back in the day: the communal living, free love and days of care-free frolic under the influence of the magic herb.  The way she tells it there was such optimism then, a sense of unlimited potential in overcoming the materialistic trappings of her parents’ generation.  I don’t know if she was remembering accurately but the memories certainly were pleasant for her.

Granny’s not getting along quite as well as she used to; her knees are stiffening up and her face is starting to mold.  She thinks it will soon be time to move someplace where she can get help with her basic needs.  Well, at least she won’t be lonely; being a baby-boomer she’ll have lots of company.

She seemed pleased when I told her the government appeared to be easing restrictions on marijuana use and possession.  Wouldn’t it be nice, with all these seniors moving toward assisted living, if we could provide a special brownie with their afternoon tea?  Then they could revisit the magic dragon during their afternoon naps.