THE IN's & OUT's OF A LIVED LIFE

It all depends in which of Shakespeare's seven stages of life a person finds themself. Personally, I have only one in-door and only one out-door sport left. Neither is especially grand, and only one is possibly gratifying.

Inside, I find myself scouting the television & celebrity magazines which come to us by some computer glitch in paparazzi headquarters. Over morning coffee I have taken up the sport of scoring their pagan pages for how many items I can still identify. To date: Only 7% of the celebrities (I actually lost track after Marilyn & Elvis),...16% of the breasts (I lost track after my prostate surgery)....34% of the abs (I never any to work from in the first place) ...and a proud 0% of the trysts they relentlessly report.

Pathetic, I know!

But fortunately, there's also my outdoor sport: Nature. Always something majestic about clear blue skies, bulging orange suns, the fragrance of fresh-mowed lawns, the muscular challenge of some out-of-reach goal. I clearly remember such from my salad days in summer camps and at beach resorts. From hard-breathing moments reaching a cliff top or surviving another white-water wave. Outdoor exhilarations like these grab hold tight of your heartbeat, never ever to release you from their power.

And so it is I re-experience these same thunderous moments every morning I paddle out in slippers & robe for my morning newspaper. Usually scattered windily across our front lawn. You see -- the kid purposely scatters it like this, because he knows the old boy. And he knows how I still love outdoor adventure...