It seems to me that as I drift into a new year and a new decade, a new question arises: what can be done to me or with me?

You see, age is the answer to every question. I fell down because I'm old. I forgot to eat lunch because I'm old. I forgot to write a column because I'm old. Yeah, as I see it, I now have the "old" card to play.

The days are shorter because there are fewer of them. My bulk of time on earth has been used up. I am what I am because of what I ate, drank, did, and didn't do. If life is a pile of change, then at this point I'm down to a couple of pennies.

But on the bright side, I know that a new pair of shoes or another bed is not going to make my back feel better and buying health books advertised on TV is not going to give me any more time on earth than watching an episode of Pee-Wee's Playhouse. I remember hearing a few years ago that moderate exercise will, at best, only give me another month or a chance to see four more episodes of Heroes.

As the oldest of the Boomers moved into their sixties the past two years, I hear there is a bit of unrest among the group approaching the 60 mark this year. My advice is for them to hold on and take it easy. If they're nervous, then I ought to be in a panic.