Abruptly, suddenly, like the
snap of his fingers, his lifestyle
took a turn from fun, exercise,

enjoyment of the great out-of-doors,
to being a lonely life in a chair
with little movement because every

step was excruciatingly painful.
He hobbled a few steps to the bath-
room; he hobbled to the spare bed-

room because there was no way he
could make it down the steps to
the master bedroom. He had become

an old, old man or what he imagined
it felt like to be an old, old man
because of an incapacitation brought

on by his own stupidity. He over
estimated his ability to do what he
hoped would be another fun, physical

challenge and he wrenched his knee
and strained some muscles. The
school of hard knocks kicked him

in the butt and he wound up feeling
like he was flunking life. A friend
uttered the words he has heard many

times before (including the time
he broke thirteen bones in a mount-
ain biking accident and slept for

three months in an ugly but incredibly
comfortable Lazy Boy) and hates almost
as much as the pain: “Time to act your

age.” To which he mumbled under his
breath as he grabbed his crutches,
“We’ll see about that.”