The fact the we have become old fogeys was borne in upon us the other night when we went to an Irish music concert in Coatesville. The two performers were young (but hugely talented) men, and the emcee apologized at the outset for the fact that the show really had to start and end on time. It seemed that one of the musicians had to be at work in New York the next morning: after the show, his friend was driving him to Philadelphia, where he planned to catch an 11:20 p.m. bus up to Manhattan.
And he was probably perfectly coherent and efficient at work the next day, too.
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