Sunday Puzzle

"There is NO way I'm ever going to allow my children to see me like this."

This is what you say when you're young enough to actually imagine an alternative. But here's the conundrum: As you age, your choices diminish, along with your friends. If you're lucky enough to have any old friends left, they are most likely either ill or disinterested in anything but their own health problems. So hanging out with them is, at best, an organ recital. People your own age will not be likely to lift your spirits.

You'll have to be around younger people, who still have dreams about something other than piddling or tinkling. You might still have a wealth of knowledge to offer, but let's say that as you've aged, you've become -- call it "difficult." You don't have a small army of disciples. The only younger people who will be willing to spend time with you are your own children -- the ones you say you're never going to allow to see you being less than the way you used to be.

No parent starts out wanting to be another of those little nagging obligations that keep our kids up at night worrying. That option is not included in the Parent's Manual. And all children want their parents to continue being their heroes.

Plotnik and Ducknik always feel like teenagers when they get back to Saint Plotniko after a trip anywhere, but especially these days after being in Stiletto City. They feel a little guilty about it, but what a relief! For awhile they can forget that they are working on that same jig saw puzzle as everybody else. No matter how complicated they make it, there will come a time when there is only one piece left and one hole into which to place it. You've got to avoid that place. You've got to find another off-ramp on the 101 to the 405 to Nowhere. Or an on-ramp. Any ramp.

What can Plotnik and Ducknik do to make things different later on, for themselves and for their children?

So far Plotnik only can think of one answer: Keep at it. Not only because there will never be anything more meaningful for him than writing a beautiful song, but because it's going to give him something else to think about, to talk about, to consider and share, down the road. He reserves the right to repeat himself, if at least he's still working on that puzzle.