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Give Me a 28-Year-Old (and I don't mean that way!)
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I will always take help.  I have no doubt that I need it.  The first thing I do in a crisis--after I've done what I can--is to call the authorities, therapists, ministers, and take out places.  I have always known that I can't do it alone, and I will go for the brain power, the body power, and just about anyone who can help me out of a pickle.

In my book, everything takes a village.  Living takes a village.  Getting up in the morning takes a village, or at least half of one.  I've never thought I could do anything on my own for the long haul.  I'll take my turn steering, but then come on up and spell me awhile.  Tell me how to do it better, please.   Thank you.  God bless.

Lately, those who are helping me are all about 28-32, give or take.  I, the older generation, am now relying on those in their prime to get me out of pickles.  My new lawyer is 32, a robust, thoughtful, intelligent man.  My new agent is in this age group, and she's a hard worker, who is young enough to think I'm going to make it.  My publicists are in this age group, as was the woman who took my wedding photographs.  Everywhere I turn, the person is charge is about 28, and thank god.   Strong and full of energy, the exact age to get us out of trouble and on to the next thing.

But I can still help out!  Let me know.  I'll take the wheel for awhile.  I'll give you some suggestions.  I'll do what I can.  Just note that I will need my sleep.