If it's possible to have a learning disability for friends, then I think I've got one. I marvel at the seemingly simplistic interactions that transpire between two young children who've just met. You know -- those conversations that go something like, "You want to be my friend?" "Uh - huh." "Ok, let's go play."
When I was in my 30's and early 40's, I looked upon the issue of aging with a certain amount of reverent awe. I identified with the line from the John Denver song, "It turns me on to think of growing old," and I viewed older people as being wise, at peace with the universe and having answers to questions that I longed to understand.
It's now two days before the official beginning of the year that follows age 49 and I'm safely ensconced in a log cabin in the Smoky Mountains. I decided that if I can't hide from the year that follows 49, I may as well find some way to celebrate it.
With our obsession on thinness, most of us have rather predictable times when we begin to think of losing weight. We start new diets as part of our New Year's resolutions, in preparation for weddings, class reunions and hot dates, before swimsuit weather, or when our clothes start feeling tight or the number on the scales gets too scary and depressing.