I'm six and a half years older than Bernie, and I have tremendous genes: My mother wrote a poem two days before her 100th birthday and survived emergency surgery six days later. At 82, I'm working on a novel. That said, I'm not the person I was in my 60s, nor the person I was in my 70s. My memory isn't what it once was, my energy isn't what it once was, I'm not what I once was. Little things get in the way now. Is the cornbread dry because I forgot to add the cup and a half of warm water? Is the doctor's office closed because it's really Sunday instead of Monday like I thought it was? What do you call that paved area cars drive on? I've believed in you, Bernie, voted for you, and would have prayed for you if I was a praying person. But 80 is pushing it. Please don't.