Kevin

I'm doing this from memory, so forgive any baubles in the accuracy. But go with me now, in your brain, to that fateful scene in Monty Python's Holy Grail, when King Arthur happens upon a cloaked person mucking around in a ditch...

Arthur: "Old Woman..."

Person: "Man..."

Arthur: "Old Man. Who lives in that castle..."

Person: "I'm 37."

Arthur: "...what?"

Person: "I'm 37. I'm not old..."

Arthur: "Well I couldn't very well just call you 'Man' now could I?"

Person: "You could have called me Kevin."

Arthur: "I didn't know you were NAMED Kevin!"

Kevin: "Well you didn't bother to find out, did you?"

Ah, yes. Kevin's thirty-seven. Was then, still is now. Not me. I'll be FORTY-seven next week. Apparently, his Anarcho-syndaclist-commune lifestyle has a fountain of youth quality I don't enjoy.

On the other hand, the Omaha Steaks arrived yesterday. Kevin was mucking around in the ditch; I don't think HE had any steaks in the freezer!