Saturday morning found me at Home Depot in Poughkeepsie, the one across from Marist. Nothing earth shattering there. I just had to pick up (pun intended) some 40-pound bags of water softener salt. I purchased four bags, then went over to load them into my shopping cart. There was grunting and grimacing as my pathetically skinny "upper body" struggled to heave-ho the 160 pounds of pellets into the cart.
As I was leaving, the lady at the cash register looked at me sympathetically, and asked: "Do you need help loading those bags into your car? You seemed to be struggling a bit." You seemed to be struggling a bit. This, of course, is a sticking point for me as later this summer my personal calendar hits the 50-year mark. Sure, it's just another year in middle age, but really it's not just another year. It's a milestone year, one that leads to introspection and soul searching, or in some cases crazy extremes. I politely declined the offer. I may be weak, I may be frail in the arms, but this soon-to-be 50-year-old can still haul his salt. For now, anyway ...
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