They say time flies when you're having fun. Could be, but I couldn't vouch for it; the older I get, the less I know about fun. nowadays work is a lot less fun and fun is a lot more work. I do know, however, that at the age I'm reaching, time flies -- fun or no fun.

By the time I was old enough and wise enough to watch my step, I was too old to go anywhere. I can now eat raw oysters without gagging, and that's a courageous cultural step for an old limping lump of retired mountain-stomper.

Life might, as they say, start at my age, but nothing else does. These days it takes jumper cables and extra batteries just to get me out of bed. All I can say is it's a hell of a thing when life starts just as all the rest of me runs down, spreads out, or falls apart.

There are some things that still turn my crank, though, and here are a few samples:

* Pumping up a new basketball for a bunch of kids. You can make that a football, volleyball, or beachball if you wish. Or string a tennis net, rig a fishing line, or any of a thousand other things -- just as long as it's for a bunch of waiting kids. You ever see such looks of earnest delight? Anticipation? Devotion?

* Speaking of something delightful, how about spotting a lovely smile amid a sea of bored and indifferent faces. Try your local tax office at four o'clock on Tuesday afternoon and see if just such a smile wouldn't shine like a beacon at midnight, on a dark and angry night.

* Nudging your granddaughter toward a key piece that will help her complete a jigsaw puzzle -- and take a giant step toward building the kind of confidence that will carry her successfully for decades.

* Taking an immediate liking to someone new whom you hope will become a friend for life.

* The bewilderment -- and pride -- that fills you to exploding when a new household pet takes a special shine to you.

* The feeling you get when standing alone on a hilltop on a star-filled night; the recognition not only that you're an insignificant trifle, but that something much bigger is out there -- and that you'll never understand what it is or why it is. Or why you are you instead of someone else.

* Learning that a few things are unsolvable, too. Try skiing through a revolving door if you think impossibles are merely improbables waiting to be fully explored.

It's an axiom that dreams seldom come true, and we need to recognize that's a good thing. What a nightmare it would be to have even our most pleasant daydreams become real. Wealth, power, fame, talent -- all no doubt have their downsides: fear of assassination, kidnapping, or the loss of fractional skills that relegate one to the ash heap of history; none will ever affect me.

I'd rather stand on that hilltop on a star-filled night and wonder. . . .

 

Next week? Another walk on the wild side.