Age has a nice way of tangling up with one’s affairs. To start with, it is like an observer, in the distance, someone that stands at the side of the field watching as you learn to play the game, like an eager parent, but one that is obedient and happy just to watch.

And then, as years peel by, Age has a nice way of appearing now and then, randomly, around corners, in Doctor’s offices and at the roadside of misfortune. Just enough to remind you that someday soon your free ride may require a fee - that those years of consuming microwave foodstuffs from convenience stores at unholy hours might not have been good afterall.

More recently, I discovered that my friend the root canal is waiting in upper right number seven, just paused for that opportunity to pounce at the insistence of Age. And, of course, everyone who is more friendly with Age has gone through this before, but strangley some force prevents them from informing those of us who are not as familiar.

I hope one day, when Age comes to roost, that we’ll be old friends. Until then, I guess I’ll try to look the other way.