It seems there are few things like a significant snow event to bring into view signs of encroaching senescence.
1. I decided to do the snow removal in shifts, the better to preserve my energies. Heading out for my second go at it, I discovered that my neighbor had already finished the job. Probably viewed my efforts from the window and knew he never wanted to see anything that pathetic again.
2. Then the plow went by and filled in the end of my driveway with approximately 3 tons of frozen crustiness. I was out hacking away at it this lunchtime when my daughter got dropped off by her friend's dad. We exchanged meteorological pleasantries, as Minnesotans will, and then, pulling away, he advised me to "be careful."
3. A day or two before the storm, I'm stopped at a red light in south Minneapolis and a young woman, out for a run, crosses in front of me. I follow her with my eyes, naturally. As she approaches the opposite curb, she takes a short stride in order to land at the front edge of a puddle, then springs over it with her next long stride. I used to be able to do that!
4. Last time I was in an uber I was somewhat younger than I am now. Still, I guess I was old enough so that, taking my seat, I observed the driver checking me out in the rear-view mirror before changing the radio from a hip-hop station to MPR. Probably should be thankful it wasn't right-wing talk!
5. Since I've strayed from the original theme of winter's memento mori, I might as well mention what I take to be the best bit of commentary on the recently concluded clown show in the US Capitol—someone, taking note of Kevin McCarthy's craven concessions to the certifiable lunatics in his caucus, tweeted that, in exchange for the votes needed to be elected Speaker, he had promised to use the gavel only for the purpose of pounding himself in the crotch.
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