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I listen from my little castle high on the hill to the rhythmic pound, pound, pound of the basketball as the men folk of my family fellowship, enjoying the sport that has brought me many hours of great pleasure. I am drawn, hypnotically, to the therapeutic and exciting laughing and cheering as they do the thing I once did well and thereby thrilled millions. Well....... maybe not millions, not even 100s....... but I know Susan [my wife] liked to watch plus a girl named Roberta, who wanted to be my wife. Two's not bad.

So, I dust off my dry-rotted tennis shoes and hold my breath as I press my sagging chest down on my basketball-sized belly and grope for the laces that I can't see but fortunately
still remember how to tie. I endeavor to put on my shorts but realize that I've tied my shoes together and fall on the floor in the effort and yell the yell I learned on TV.."I've fallen down and I can't get up!" Of course this doesn't work, so I lie on my side in a fetal position and untie my shoes and retie them properly...I think...it's any body's guess. Getting off the floor and realizing that I forgot to put my shorts on before putting on my shoes, I proceed to try to thread my shoes through the leg holes of my shorts, causing me to hop around the room like a crippled kangaroo on one leg. Breathing like an asthmatic, face down in ragweed, I finally get it done without having to call 911. I proceed to slip my XX t-shirt over my head, cutting my nose with the downward pull on the glasses I forgot to remove and try to stifle the free flow of blood thinned by the meds I take for my heart which is now beating too fast because I am traumatized with this whole complicated procedure and therefore the blood is being forced out of the cut on my nose like flood waters going through a straw. The blood is soaking my clean t-shirt which I now need to change. I need a nap. Where're my glasses?

I change my t-shirt, put on my glasses that were under the couch [notice the order?] and, after cleaning up the bathroom that looked like Custer's last stand, I remember a verse in the Bible that says I 'can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me" and with determination and careful planning I head toward the awaiting youngsters. I take assessment of my drawbacks. I am 60. I am fat. Obviously I am stupid. I have blocked arteries in my heart, arthritis in my lower back, tendinitis in both Achilles tendons, just had a planter wart frozen for the second time

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