Kindred Spirits

This morning I was on the check-out line paying for my groceries when the gentleman behind me took notice of my old tattered wallet (which I blogged about once here, when it turned 30).

"I've had it since 1978", I bragged. "Got it in Woodstock."

Meanwhile, he was pulling out his wallet to pay for his groceries, and totally trumped me.

"Poughkeepsie, 1964".