One day recently, I was coming back through the door at work after lunch. A student was heading out, so I motioned him ahead of me through the door. He stood solidly and held the door, shaking his head and said, "Oh no, age before madness, brother." Had I been faster on my toes I would have insisted and uttered a truism, "No no, youth always goes before madness."
Indeed, youth eludes me now, but the madness? Still there. Here's a shot of the youthful madness, at a Grateful Dead show in August, 1987, a few days after the nearly-memorable Harmonic Convergence, in the gold rush country of the Sierra Nevada - Angels Camp, where Mark Twain spent some time as a miner and wrote about the Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County. Hard to believe I was ever 25 years old, but here's photographic evidence of me signaling a right turn in the Left Turn Only lane at the restrictions sign: