In my head I visualize myself as when I was about 30-34 years old. Then, a young person, say about, 20? Calls me “sir” and I wake up. Abruptly. No one calls a 30 year old “sir” unless they’re 12. I am aging. And evidently; not well. And from within my skull, I don’t see it, until I must. Until I pass a mirror, or someone young calls me “sir”. And no. I am not that guy who says “Don’t call me ‘sir’ that’s my dad ha ha ha” …because that’s an old-guy cliché.
Doc Johnson
