Just passed my eightieth birthday a couple months ago and I feel fine (despite an occasional pop or squeak).

The oldest man I ever met was 114 when I met him and he lasted until he was 134. Sounds like a goal to shoot for. He had generally good health all the way, and he used to get up early and walk about mile before breakfast until the day he died (peacefully in his sleep).

I still sing, and people tell me my voice is as good as it ever was. I practice the guitar every day (well…..almost every day). I have some fairly decent recording equipment and I'm planning to cobble up as many CDs as I can (know lots of songs; need to get them down somewhere). Thinkin' about doing a web page (pure vanity).

I'm busily writing up a storm (when I'm not messin' around on Mudcat). Occasional magazine articles, along with working on a book:   informal or personal view of the folk scene in the Pacific Northwest during the Fifties, Sixties, and onward, along with my adventures following my career (or as Tom Robbins would say, "my careen") as a singer of folk songs during that time. Nothing so grandiose as a formal history. I want to be free to express my personal opinions and make a few smartass observations.

Feelin' good. Havin' fun.

Keep on truckin'.

Don Firth