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The joy of getting old, part 3

Editor’s note: This is the continuation of a column that has run over the last two weeks.

I have noticed lately that when talking to my grandchildren about having to work so hard as a kid or having to walk to school in a foot of snow, they immediately yawn and start searching for their iPod. This is so disturbing to my ego that I just want to retreat to my closet and count my shirts or shine my shoes, if I can retrieve my old shoeshine kit from the garbage.

At a recent routine visit to my cardiologist, he noted that I looked a little pale. I responded that only yesterday my ophthalmologist, my dentist, my urologist, my neurologist and my dermatologist had all said the very

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