Muscle memory must be a little like mind memory with respect to remembering the fantasy not the actual. All those construction projects performed only because guys with know how assisted greatly and besides, I never would have tried them if the same guys hadn't convinced me we could do it. Those muscles that lifted and raised and hammered and loaded and unloaded are now aghast at the memory of what they did, 'cause they could not begin to do what they did back then. But I'm committed to making fresh memories on these tired muscles because mooment , baby is the biggest part of destiny. Jitterbug, boogaloo, rapid ascent of stairs, vigorous walking pace - label it as you please but mooment, baby is my harkening. Dead celebrities only remind me because I watch them in their captured glory and it jostles the playbook to make this second half minus the walker and those motorized carts to shop at Walmart. Ah, who am I kidding? Knowing you've already shot your best load tempers the excitement of downhill racing or tree climbing if that's your fantasy. Rock on has a different meaning now,too. But truly loving what the day gives eclipses youthful aspirations especially when the endorphins still linger from the night before. Restatement of the obvious but if the foo shits, wear it.