At Hancock Shaker Village, this flock of sheep had no trouble with the winter's cold temperatures, as evidenced by their extremely thick, shaggy coats. Photo by Joel Libizzi

It has come to my attention lately that time, specifically my time here on earth, is flowing past me quite rapidly. I was notified, by e-mail, that it’s time for my 30th high school reunion this summer. I was also invited to attend Homecoming this fall at my university, 25 years after graduation.

Funny, I still feel the same as I did when I was 18 and 23, although I certainly don’t look the same.

I made the mistake of whining about all this to my mother, whose high school class will be celebrating its 55th reunion. Nope, no sympathy from her.

Neither of us will be attending any reunions. I don’t want to encounter people who all remember me as a thin person, ("Wow, what happened to you?") and I prefer to keep my youthful memories just that -- youthful. I would be crushed to see my high school friends in their current dissipated condition, destroying the tender images of my misspent teenage years.

I’m going to deal with the reunions in a psychologically healthy way -- I’ll stay home and eat chocolate.