Skating through life

While watching some kids skateboard recklessly down a metal handrail on TV last week, I began to wonder when I got too old to slide across the kitchen floor in stockinged feet. That's about as reckless as I ever got (and with my lack of coordination that's more reckless than it sounds.)

Eventually I remembered: it wasn't old age at all that brought my kitchen-skating days to an abrupt end. It was a pair of non-skid socks.

One morning I went tearing into the kitchen & started across the floor like an Olympic figure skater. When those non-skid treads hit the floor, I stopped like a bug hitting the windshield of a semi on I-65, like Wiley Coyote hitting a frying pan, like an uncoordinated old lady trying to revive the youth she never had.

Age is a just a state of mind and I'm in a state of confusion...Me