At the ripe old age of 71, I often find myself in bed sleepless, thinking about some of the escapades from my youth, and bewildered that I wasn’t in an early grave decades ago.

Can’t call it luck, because it happened way too many times, and I fail to understand why the Lord kept protecting me, as I’m certainly no gift, but here I am! Stoved in, creaking, and sore. Plus indigestion if I even look at a taco.