Getting Old - Drinking 40 year old Tawny

i'm drinking port and feeling old, i should be enjoying whiskey.  my arm is in a sling, the result of a fall this morning. unable to finish the day on skis, it is beginning to sink in that i'll also miss the coming storm.  I need another gulp of port.  suddenly my heart hurts more than my shoulder.

having turned thirty-nine two days prior, age has been on my mind lately.  needing help getting dressed and undressed, only able to type with one hand and feeling cranky because i'm sore has old age starring back at me when I look in the mirror.  have another drink old man... cheers

as i sip this time both my nose and my palate are greeted with impressions of nutmeg, roasted coffee and a joyful nuttiness. my mind lingers on the wine´s rich, intense, voluptuous, almost viscous texture, culminates in a finish of incredible length.  this wine still has room to grow but it drinks well now.  glancing at the label the number 40 stands out.  smiling i take another drink, this one to numb my shoulder.  I aint old yet.

"fine wine," a voice whispers in my ear, "fine wine."  we're just getting better with age