When I was old I put away childish things
So the other day I ran into an acquaintance who said, “Whoa, you were a wild thing.” And I said, “Back in the day.” At this point the idea of dancing on a table top, tripping the light fantastic sounds like anathema. Oh my. Oh my. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, in his poem “Nature,” compares the old to a child who must “leave his broken playthings on the floor” and go to bed: So Nature deals…