I used to think that when I was 80 I'd have time to read or re-read all the books I never had time for. I did that after I graduated from university, took the time to read the books not on the courses but recommended or intriguing. I had a list. Well, I have another list now, longer than it was, and I'm still adding to it. But I seem to be busier than I expected, also more tired. And I'm still trying to catch up with current publications as well as with my own thinking, ongoing. Because I am still thinking, oddly enough. The inner dialogue never stops and it runs counterpoint to whatever my current focus is. People seem to think I've retired. Not. Though not as public as I was, I am sill writing (it's marketing that's harder). You know that classic gaffe that interviewers are reported to ask older people, like me: who did you used to be? The thing is, I still am. Where did the time go?