A bit from the phone conversation:
Joe: Oh, Shilps. I'm growing old. I've been trying to get back into running, and my tooth hurts.
Me: Knees, Joe. You mean your knee hurts.
Joe: No, no Shilps. My tooth.
Me: Your shin? Yes? Your shin hurts?
Joe: My tooth, Shilps.
Pause.
Me: Ankles?....
Joe: The Tooth, Shilps.
Pause.
Me: What do you mean, Joe? You're not running on your teeth instead of running on your feet, are you?
Joe: No, but the tooth hurts when I breathe in the cold air while running. Remember the tooth?
(Pealing bouts of laughter on both sides)
Me: Oh, yes. The bad tooth. You couldn't laugh at any jokes during winter when we'd all be walking back at night...and you'd grimace instead and look like a snarling and rather hungry wolf.
Joe: Yes. (mini-giggle). That's the one. (very sober and sombre now).
Me: But that tooth of yours has been bothering you for fifteen years. What's growing old got to do with it?
Joe: I'm growing old. My tooth hurts. I have to keep my hand over my mouth while running.
Me: Why don't you keep your mouth closed? You don't need your mouth open while running.
Pause.
Joe: Oh...! But it's difficult, Shilps. I'm growing old. I can't breathe through my nose anymore. I'm growing old.
Me: You can't breathe through your nose because you're growing old? Well use a scarf over your mouth and breathe through your mouth then.
Joe: Yes. Ana gave me one. I have a ski mask too....
Me: Well there you go. Then you can keep your mouth open and keep breathing, laughing and running, but you won't have a painful tooth.
Joe: The tooth hurts Shilps. I'm growing old....
*Beth tells me that Joe has put up a note saying that he's turned 42 this year. So I guess I'm the one who's growing old....
