It’s you and me baby. The way we used to be. But older. Wiser? That’s debatable. Our conversations meander just as much. Maybe more? We avoid the important questions. Same as we always did? More so? The air is thinner. Thinner than you used to be. You’re not that thin anymore. The air between us is doing that. It stole your look just like it steals our questions, steals our transitions. The question went unasked, the move unmade, and we find ourselves in a different place. Only you’re missing and instead it’s them. It’s us. The way we used to be. But older. Sillier? There’s an urgency to wrap this up. It’s not to close it off but to bring it around. The way it used to be. Making juvenile jokes. Juveniles pretending to be adults. Only when you are the adult, casting your lot with the juveniles feels wrong. So we turn instead to other topics, other discussions. Sports. And what would happen if a lacrosse player fashioned a baseball glove? Funny how it looks a lot like a hockey goalie’s glove.