OK, now I am ticked off. Last week I received a solicitation in the mail to join AARP. Yes,
that AARP! The
American Association of Retired Persons. Sure, I have the silver hair, and my kids think I am ancient, but believe me, the only way I’m going to enter their little club is kicking and screaming every step of the way.
But indignation did not stop me from perusing the AARP flier and checking out the benefits of being what I prefer to call “maturely young” (or, as…
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