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From the editor: Just had breakfast at "Super Cream" with Hugh Emerson and Jerry Danache, on the way home found myself humming "Old Friends" by Paul Simon. Below is the first verse:
"Old friends, old friendsSat on their park bench like bookendsA newspaper blown through the grassFalls on the round toesOf the high shoes of the old friends
Old friends, winter companions, the old menLost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunsetThe sounds of the city sifting through treesSettle like dust on the shoulders of the old friends
Can you imagine us years from todaySharing a park bench quietly?How terribly strange to be 70
Old friends, memory brushes the same yearsSilently sharing the same fears"
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