Coming home from the store a while back, we saw a Roadmaster parked in the neighborhood.
“It’s a Roadmaster,” my wife said.
“Yes, it is,” I agreed.
“Doesn’t look like it’s in very good shape,” she added.
“Looks like a ’91 to me,” I said.
Pause.
I added, “I was in good shape in ’91, and look at me now.”
