On my 30th birthday, I took my sister and her kids and my cousin and her kids to Discovery Zone. You know, where you play in a ball pit and crawl through Habitrails for kids? I strapped on knee pads and crawled through as well as any one of the kids.
Flash forward to my 40th birthday. I visited the same cousin and her brother for a day of board games today. MY SHOULDER IS SORE FROM ROLLING DICE FOR A FEW HOURS. What’s to become of me? I can hardly wait for 50!
There’s still time for you. Eat well, exercise ... or as my grandmother would have said, “Straighten up and fly right.” I should have straightened up and flown right, I guess. Then I wouldn’t be a paunchy, middle-aged man. And my shoulder wouldn’t hurt from rolling the bones. And I didn’t even roll sixes — I rolled all little ones.
See you in a decade,
Bob
* * * * * *
With age comes decrepitude but also skills of manipulation.
We can’t out run ’em but can usually out think ’em.
I don’t know if I can out think ’em ... remember from when you were a teen how stupid a 40-year-old is. But I can still out drink ’em. That’s my new strategy. In the event of dispute, we’ll do shots until somebody falls down.
