I was feeling benevolent that morning because my son and daughter were headed off to work and I was headed for a walk. This occurred last summer for the first time when my son turned sixteen and my daughter, back from college, had jobs at the same place and left together in the morning. It was one of those major celebratory moments which my wife and I commemorated by toasting their morning departure with false rum punches (complete with tiny umbrellas) from chaise lounges placed near the driveway. As they went out the front door we ran out the back so we could be in position when they got into the car. We waited sixteen years to do that and it still raises my spirits whenever I think of it.

Walking is my concession to my body which requires some exercise to avoid complete deterioration. I have always subscribed to Mark Twain's reflection on exercise as an "urge that requires lying down until it passes". I appease the complaints from my brain, easily bored by routines of any sort, by allowing it free rein over my thoughts while my body toils away. Here's how it works. My mind is divided into many characters, each of which is free to make comments during the walk for the amusement or edification of the others.

As I walked out the door, my mind reexamined the state of my socks. It observed that they looked as if they were being flown at half mast and wondered what we might be mourning. The philosophical part of my brain asked if my socks were half up or half down? This lead to the question, "If the tan line left on men's arms by short sleeve shirts was referred to as farmer arms, was there a corresponding name for the line on your shins left by socks? The anthropological part of my brain wondered if there were similar human behaviors that were somehow associated with pulling your socks up too high. The stereotype of older men pulling their pants up under their arm pits, came to mind as well as comb-overs as a way to compensating for biological changes. The spiritual and scientific parts of my brain had a brief debate about whether hair growing out of ones ears resulted from a God with a perverse sense of humor or DNA making up for the loss of hair in other areas much like older trees sprouting branches at the bottom of their trunk.

This led to a lively debate as we discussed the difference between things I can no longer do or could only do with a tremendous effort and the things I never wanted to do but feel deprived of now that they would be difficult or impossible to accomplish. Several things were submitted for consideration like climbing Mt. Everest, running a marathon, sky diving, and becoming a high-powered CEO with a golden parachute. The macho part of my brain bragged that it could still sky dive if it wanted. "After all George Bush did it when he was in his eighties!" he declared. This was about to break into a political dispute when the navigator alerted the brain that the body had arrived back at its starting point and the exercise portion of our day was fulfilled. The mind was now required to go to work. A minor protest began but was quickly quashed when reminded that the alternative was to extend the walk. The meeting was quickly adjourned until the next time.

No matter what you have to do or say it is important for your brain to take your body out regularly.