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I still think I am and certainly look like mid-twenties, imposing athlete. I am not anymore. Far from it. I remember crashing into a very tough and fit young man in Central Park. He was rollerblading; I was riding my bike. (He swerved into me, but it does not matter.). We both end up on the ground, fortunately by the side of the road, on soft grass. I figured he would get up and confront me. My adrenaline was surging as this tattooed monster walked towards me. Then he said, "Sir, are you OK? I hope you are not hurt. Here let me help you up." I would have preferred the assault, but he was afraid he had injured an old man. He was also very polite and well-spoken, so I was also guilty of misjudging him entirely. Getting old...

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I've been thinking about age for the last 4 days, primarily because that's when I turned 69. I keep wondering....how can that be? People keep saying, "you don't look 69" and it doesn't make it much better. What's the best I can look? 65 or even 60? That's still not a bonus. And that's what I thought of when your mentioned your highschool friend. Love your writing, Rob!

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