Born 5 Decades Too Late . . .

I was born five decades too late.
This was determined as I was sitting in Father Bill's office (which seems to be my most likely haunt) listening to jazz music in an attempt to purge Handel, Haydn and Mozart from my brain.
Not only was the best music written at this time, but life had a romance to it that fails to exist now. Dancing in tails and long ball gowns to the crooning voice of Frank Sinatra, listening to Tommy Dorsey's orchestra play on the radio, writing letters to pen pals in far off places. Relationships were harder, but they must have been worth it because those who married in the war are the ones who have stayed together for the most part. Now love is cheap and relationships will always have another chance to come around. There is no feeling that you need to seize the day and take the chance because you still have tomorrow.
Maybe I don't need to live five decades ago. Maybe I just need to learn to create my own romance and live each day to the fullest.
It would be really nice to dance under the stars though . . .