Hobbling around on a bad knee and ankle this week, courtesy of too much calcium buildup on both knee and ankle and a little medical intervention to take care of the problem. One more week in the brace and I should be back to normal, which in my condition means moving ever-more slowly as age overcomes ambition.

There are, unfortunately, no real ways to avoid the ravages of age, especially for those of us who abused various bones, joints, ligaments and whatnot in our youth. When they x-rayed my ankle, the doctor looked at the mass of calcium that blocked any probing view of the joint and asked: “My God, how many times have you broken that anke?”

I really don’t’ know. Six, maybe seven times.

“It’s a wonder you can still walk,” he said.

I wonder about that sometimes too, particularly when it is damp or cold. Arthritis slows the use of both ankles, both knees, both hips, both hands and one shoulder.

I don’t remember who it was that said “if I had known I was going to live this long I’d have taken better care of myself,” but he was right.