Revelations come at the
oddest times. My latest one came while I was preparing a photo album
for our five year old granddaughter, Claire. I needed a name for the
book, a simple title such as “Happy Birthday, Claire” just didn't
appeal to me. I played around with names and fonts, spacing and
colors, then, out of the blue, my muse typed “Clair 5.0” in a
red, none serif font. I studied the unexpected title, then realized
it was perfect for an active, fast growing young girl.
Being a computer nerd, I
have been familiar with software release numbers for years. Every
base number of a program release denotes a major version or year,
such as Microsoft Windows which made the second release of Windows
3.0 famous. It was windows 3.1 and set the standard not only for
personal computing software, but for program numbering as well.
Since our granddaughter
would be five, I picked Claire 5.0 as the perfect title for her photo book. Only two months after her fifth birthday she would be smarter,
faster, taller, a slightly different young girl. By June, using my logic, she would be Claire 5.2.
Using that same standard,
I'm 71.4, and that changes my outlook on everything. Next month I'll
be 71.5 and my unstoppable progress toward my eventual demise becomes
even more definable. Telling people only your age gives you a
whole year of wiggle room. No one knows if you just turned your age,
or if you are about to roll over to your next one. Saying I'm 71 is a
whole lot different than saying I'm 71.4. But, on the other hand, it
is kind of cool to say exactly how old I am, although I'm not sure 71.4 is
any better or smarter than 71.3, - I'm sure there is a point of
diminishing improvement - but experience must count for something,
right?
Five dot oh, was exactly
what I wanted, but, unfortunately my wife wasn't impressed with my
wry sense of humor. Well, I think it's wry. So, anyway, the name of
the book will be “Claire.” That works for everybody. Even George
71.4.
