I was chatting with an old friend this morning. I say old, but he is actually a bit younger than I am. We have known each other over 30 years. We were friends back in the old country before we came to Maine together.

Now and then, we slip into that jargon of the elderly wherein we begin comparing notes to see, I am sure, who is further down the slope into oblivion. Nobody wins these “contests” but it is a shared experience which in it’s own way offers some consolation.

Somewhere along the way, we tacitly agreed (I hope) not to take each other too seriously as we offer each other dubious advise about life or make some snap assessment of the other’s character and this principle has helped to preserve a kind of stasis in our relationship which could be a model for all old farts.

Navigating this slippery slope, with its ruts, drop-offs, dead ends, (no pun intended) and mounds of false hope, is not fun, or easy, or desirable. But there it is. I’d rather spend my time lazing about on some tropical beach (wireless Internet of course) watching exotic creatures frolic in the dunes but I choose instead what is actually possible over the phantasmagorically implausible.

What is actually possible are a few housekeeping chores, a trip to the library, a pot of tea and an electronic chat with an old friend. Life is where you find it. Sometimes happiness is there as well.

However, since we can, it is permitted to think, from time to time, about the phantasmagorically implausible. We’d be fools not to.