Being human is like driving a car and looking out the windshield. For 70, 80, and even 100 years, the view from inside, the sense of self, is pretty much the same. The sky, clouds, countryside, towns and cities seem the same and they feel the same. You notice that your \u201cengine\u201d has lost some horsepower, your body is bent, dented and showing signs of rust, but as you look out on the world, it feels just like it did when you were younger; 17, 47, or even 78 (like I am). Until you step on the gas and the motor sputters a bit, you\u2019d never know (from your viewpoint on the inside) that you\u2019re driving around in a heap. <\/p>\n
Whether I\u2019m sitting down, looking out my window at the hills, or peddling my bicycle through the countryside, I have no idea that I\u2019m no longer 17. It\u2019s my favorite age for reasons I don\u2019t fully understand. Maybe because it was my last year in high school and I was in the safe zone before turning 18 and getting a draft card. Back then it meant you could walk into any bar in the country, show your card and order a beer, not realizing that it also meant Uncle Sam could reach out and grab you for military service whenever the mood struck him. <\/p>\n