You know, I don’t have epiphanies as often as I used to. I guess it’s important to write these things down before I disappear into old age and can’t remember my phone number.
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Epiphany #1: I won’t have to remember my phone number. Hell, I don’t remember it now because I never really dial it. My cell phone owns my number memories now. Click, click, click and I’m calling. Sometimes, just a couple of click will do.
Epiphany # 1 and a half: I said “dial” and I don’t think I’ve “dialed” a number for a very, very, very long time.
Epiphany #2: The Perfect Grandson might begin his toddler years with either a woman or an African American as President. It’s likely. And none of this will be a big deal to him or to any of his little buddies. All their lives. Imagine that. 
Epiphany #3: I’m middle-aged. Hmmm. I guess if I live to be ninety, that’s true. I know this because my mother introduced me to one of her acquaintances as Monda, my middle-aged daughter. In public.
Epiphany #4: I knew big hair would come back. It was just a matter of time.
No Telling 
the higher the hair, the closer to heaven!i love big hair, and i regret that i’ll never be able to take part in its splendor.i went out for drinks with some phd students last night and we were talking about the elections. most of them are in their thirties (and if they aren’t thirty yet, they will be in a couple years), and they were talking about the shift between the regan/bush years and the clinton years. i told them i basically grew up with clinton. he was inaugurated when i was 7-years-old, and left office when i was 15. they said they all felt old. i, on the other hand, felt really young. but i love those guys.
I have a harder time remembering your cell phone–I don’t know why.Imagine. What a world he’s growing into. . .