Sometimes I feel my age

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I remember my mother saying this.  It struck me as an odd thing to say.  It no longer seems remotely odd.  I know exactly what she meant.  It’s just that I’m years too late in having a good conversation with her on the subject.

The thing that’s prompted my thought is my present need to engage on social media in a far more energetic way than I’ve ever wanted to do.   I’ve used a computer since the early 90s, but I’ve barely bothered with Facebook and other such sites.  Now I must.   Today I penetrated into the nether reaches of LinkedIn and dared a post. I then linked it to Facebook and Twitter.  Have I ever tweeted?  I can’t remember.  Who on earth will see a tweet of mine?  You need followers.   Followers used to mean the young lads who would hang around a kitchen door waiting for a parlourmaid to come off duty.  Or so I picked up from novels of the early twentieth century.

Now it’s the 21st century, and even politics is conducted by tweet.   Very soon I shall retire gracefully from the fray.  I’ve just one more job to do: help promote “White Lies” among book bloggers.  See


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