Peter Pan

The life-of-the-party act that you cling to as you careen into your forties is getting tiresome. You shout your insecurities out to the heavens as you call for the next round on you, oh generous soul. The years of alcohol abuse have left you wetbrained and forgetful. Leaning, spitting, elbowing in the ribs to convey a joke has been told, that is what you have come to. A shamed downcast glance has replaced what was once congenial amusement in the eyes of your friends. Do you even notice? Or does lipsynching take too much concentration? And you could stand to lose a few pounds. The years are have been unkind.