And if you want to stay young forever, move to the state of denial. While shooting the breeze before the dazzle-off, I mentioned to one of the other judges that his restaurant (where Bob and I had surreptitiously eaten the night before) reminded me of Philadelphia back in its restaurant renaissance. I remember idiosyncratic spaces with mismatched tableware and quirky ambiance and really adventurous cooking. He looked at me blankly until I explained that I was referring to the age of wonder around 1978. To which he said, startled: “I was 1.” At least we’ll one day share the bond of no Medicare.