I suffer from a weird affliction: I just cannot sit still in a chair for very long before my legs cramp up. The only quick solution to this problem is to stand up. But when I do this during a party or similar gathering everybody thinks I want to go and then they all stand up and begin saying their goodbyes. I am surprised people still invite me. But that is a minor annoyance. Some time ago we had gone out for lunch. “Look,” my wife said, “they have your favorite Rigatonelle with roasted Macadamia nuts on the menu today!” True, true. I used to eat such things with gusto, in my time. But I ordered the Spaghetti with homemade meatballs that day. How to explain this abrupt switch? Well, let us just say that even George Washington had false teeth. You get the drift. My paradise days are over. I cannot even bite into a pear, let alone an apple.
More embarrassing are moments in restaurants when something gets stuck among my makeshift choppers. I cannot continue chewing because that hurts. My impulse is to take my finger and poke the offending material loose. But one does not do this, not even hidden behind a napkin. One excuses oneself and inquires where the restrooms are. This happens all too frequently, yet one does not explain anything to anybody although one is tempted to speak up when one is informed that an appointment was made to see the urologist.
It is all part of the lesson, namely that getting old is not exactly a lark but it does make you laugh. Which is the essence of a good life. And now let my try biting into this marshmellow.