Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm ninety-five?

Wednesday at breakfast, his nibs was reading the San Francisco Chronicle. I was reading a magazine.

(Exciting life we live.)

"Kitty Carlisle Hart," he said.

"Is she dead? She must've been ninety-seven or so," I said, assuming he was reading from the obit page.

"Ninety-five," he answered. "And she's not dead. She's playing the Plush Room.

I would've liked to have seen her, but her show ran only Wednesday through today, alas.

Steven Winn, the Chronicle Arts and Culture Critic, liked the show.

What an inspiration she is for living a kick-butt life.

"I do my work. I still practice every day, do scales for a half hour and accompany myself on the piano."

[ref: the article his nibs was reading]

So this week, when Kitty Carlisle Hart toasts admirers with the classic Butler/Molinary song "Here's to Life," this remarkable woman will be speaking from the heart: "No complaints and no regrets/I still believe in chasing dreams and placing bets./But I have learned that all you give is all you get/So give it all you've got."