I'm still coping with how quickly time passes. That is another way of saying that Father Time is moving along much too fast for his years. No wonder he moves fast - I peeked the other day and the old fart was wearing $300 Nike sandals. I'd like to slow him up but he is bound and determined to win a gold medal in the Senior Olympics.
Actually it doesn't make much sense to slow him down. If tempis didn't fugit there would be no memories. I must quickly acknowledge that not all memories are thrilling to recall. If that is a problem, there is always selective memory. One of these days, Father Times' sneakers will wear out and time will come to a screeching halt. There will be no memories to recall, only time for relishing the present until it too fades away.
Given that time and tide wait for no man, perhaps it is best if I admit that when it comes to time I don’t know what time it is. All in due time, some philosopher will make some sense about time but don't bet on it. From time immemorial, the subject of time has mesmerized philosophers. Time and time again they have pondered the mysteries of time only to leave us more confused than ever. My two cents worth can only add to the confusion.
Time to put this post to bed. Time really does fly when you are having fun.