fairboys marathon.jpg

Not a bad way to spend an hour or so on a Saturday morning. I usually make a beeline for the one tired low-slung overstuffed armchair in the place, but after an hour sitting in it, it takes a Modern Marvel of Human Engineering to get me upright again. I pretend I'm rising thoughtfully, carefully making sure I haven't forgotten anything, while in fact I'm frantically willing my petrified muscles to summon up just enough of a charge to keep me moving upwards, and at the same time trying to guard against any involuntary sound effect emanating from one of the various pressure-relief valves situated throughout my body. All that and holding the remaining coffee in the by-now structurally unsound paper cup without spilling any--it's the kind of scene that, if I were to have witnessed it a few short years ago, I would have rushed up to the teetering oldster and grabbed his elbow, saying (loudly, to make sure he would hear me) "Take it easy, Pops, I got ya!" Sigh. How did I get on this side of the line? I don't remember seeing any signs. Think I'll turn around and head back over. Note to self: buy skateboard.