On Tuesday evening, I headed to Harvard’s Kennedy School (my employer for 33 years) to hear an impressive panel talk about leadership moving to a new generation. About halfway through my ten-minute walk, I realized I didn’t have a face mask. Too late to go back and not wanting to press my Covid-free luck, I walked into the lobby of the on-my-way Charles Hotel and asked the people at the reception desk if they had a spare mask. In the blink of an eye, I had a mask (and a wrapped piece of hard candy). Problem solved.
On Wednesday, I decided that I could no longer ignore the yellow-flashing light on my car’s dashboard indicating that my tires need air. This is a task that either Peter or a service visit took care of in the past. I stopped at the nearest gas station and asked if they had an air machine. The guy said “no”. He promptly went into the garage and got the mechanic on duty to use the air in the repair shop to fill my tires. He wouldn’t take any money.
Was it because I am 80-something?
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