Best Friend Mitch was talking

to me the other day, out of breath from moving new power tools. He had

enlisted help from his best bud (that would be me) to move VERY heavy

equipment to his new woodworking workshop above the garage. Seems a stray

lighting bolt last month fried all of his old power tools and he had to

go out and buy $4,000 worth of brand new tools. Poor Mitch.

"Boy, I hate getting old,"

he said. "I get tired quicker, I creak and crack walking up and down

the steps and I'm just not as strong as I use too be."

"Mitch, from down here,

you're plenty strong enough," I said, as we moved his new table saw

up the stairs. "Ha, ha, very funny you know what I mean. Use to,

I could work all day and half the night without getting tired. Now, if

I start at eight, by 2 in the afternoon, I'm whooped."

"Must be tough being an

old man," I said.

"What do you mean old?

You're two months older than me!"

"Yea, but I'm not the

one complaining. I do know what you mean about getting older and creaking,

though. Last night I got up to turn down the air, when I got back into

bed The Wife asked me what all the cracking noise was. I told her it was

just my joints when I walked. She thought it was some one trying to break

into the house. Besides, it's not the cracking and popping that bothers

me it's the snaps that give me problems."

Best Friend Mitch agreed, the

snaps take much longer to heal up from now then they did, say 20 years

ago.

Back in high school during

the last game of the regular football season, I jumped up to block a pass.

On the way down, the second biggest guy on our team knocked my legs out

from under me and rolled over on my knee.

Hank was his name, but we all

called him Hank the Tank. Hank the Tank was the right defensive tackle,

and Big Bubba was the left. Hank the Tank was 6-foot-6 and weighted in

at 255 pounds. Big Bubba was 6-4 and tipped the scales between 260 or

270 depending on how many of mom's lunchtime desserts he had consumed

carrier wanted to run. That's why most of the teams we played threw passes,

and we worked so hard on passing drills.

For five long years of high

school football practice, the hardest drill was the tire station passing

drill. The tire station had two rows of 15 tires, lying flat in a straight

line next to each other on the ground.

You'd start at one end running

through the tires, trying not to fall down as you kept your knees high

and feet up. (Not falling down was especially a good idea when Hank the

Tank or Big Bubba was behind you.)

The exercise was supposed to

work on keeping your legs up so you could step over fallen line men and

block passes or get to the ball carrier. No one on the team liked the

drill; that's why Big Brother James came up with what seemed like a good

idea.

Mid-way through the season,

just before the start of practice, we'd run over to the tire station and

take one tire into the woods and hide it. But by the end of the season

Coach knew something was up he only had six tires left. Seems coach had

finally found out why all of his practice tires were missing. That's when

we started another fun drill called Oklahoma.

During Oklahoma drills, coach

would always pair up Hank the Tank and Big Bubba against a center and

the ball carrier. The last thing you wanted to do was to be the ball carrier

us boys were the ball carriers for the rest of the year. Seems Coach found

out we were the ones that hid all of his practice tires. Coach was not

amused. Good thing we healed up quickly back when we were young.

When Hank the Tank knocked

down that pass and rolled onto my leg, I was knocked out with a sprained

right knee but was able to play in the region finals two weeks later.

When you're young, you heal up quickly when you get older, you don't.

I rolled out of bed two months

ago to get a glass of water and sprained my back it still hasn't healed

up yet. I'm beginning to understand why old people move so slowly. It's

not that they have all the time in the world you know with no kids, and

no job to go to. It's because they hurt all the time and they're afraid

if they move too fast, they'll fall down and break something else.

I can relate; it takes a long

time to heal when you get old. (My back still hurts.)

Within the next 16 years, Best

Friend Mitch and I will retire from being firefighters. But retirement

won't be boring. We won't be the type of retirees that have nothing to

do all day and nothing to talk about.

Yes, when we are retired we'll

have plenty to talk about what's broken, what's on the mend, and what's

getting operated on next. We'll stay busy in our retirement also no sitting

around for us active men folk. The way things are going, our days will

be filled we'll always be on the go going to the doctors' office, going

to the orthopedic surgeon or going the hospital.

After helping Best Friend Mitch

tote the last tool upstairs, I said, "I, for one, am glad the lighting

bolt blew up all your old power tools."

He looked at me surprised.

"Now when I borrow them, I can use brand new-top-of-the-line tools.

Yes, Mitch's Tool Rental is now once again open for business."

Mitch just looked at me and

shook his head. Sure does seem like a lot of folks are doing that these

days.