I was 24 when I began living alone in 1967, and you would've been close to that age if you began in 1977. That was the year I moved from an apartment to a house and unofficially became an adult at 34. On the afternoon of August 16, 1977, I was just leaving the mortgage company after doing the house-loan thing, when I heard the news on the radio that Elvis had died. 'Twas a long time ago, but in a way, almost like yesterday. Time has a way of compressing, even with all the stuff we do in between.