I’ve got a bit of hippie left in me and I’m a big Pink Floyd fan. It’s hard to pick a favorite song of theirs but the one that really hits home for me is Breathe.

There are only two, 8 line verses in the five-minute song. The last half of the second verse is, “For long you live, and high you fly, but only if you ride the tide, and balanced on the biggest wave, you race toward an early grave.”

I’d been racing toward an early grave for a long time. Racing like a tortoise, slowly but surely. I realized that the finish line was in sight when I found myself chronically short of breath, barely able to breathe. That’s when I heard about Paradise.

You don’t have to be a Tibetan Buddhist monk to understand that breathing is fundamental to living. I’m sure the Dalai Lama can teach us all a great deal about breathing but does one really need a holy man preaching at you about something that comes so naturally that you do it without even thinking?

I didn’t think so. In fact, the question had never occurred to me. But that changes quickly when you are barely able to breathe, no matter how much you think about it.

I may not be enlightened, but I knew enough to understand that I had to deal with the physiological obstacles to proper breathing before getting spiritual about it, so I bought a membership to Paradise.

After just a couple weeks of working out at Paradise, I felt much better. I had increased the volume of my oxygen intake. That, in turn, diminished the anxiety I’d been feeling.

I feel like I am back in control of my life. I am more energetic. I can focus better. One of the things I am focusing on now is my body. How I feel inside my body. So, often, far too often, our minds run amok, obsessing about all sorts of things that fill us with stress, which makes it difficult to sleep, which makes us run down physically, which… well, you see the cycle.

Enough of that. I’m changing the absurd and abhorrent reality that used to be my life. It all started with a single step in the right direction, toward Paradise.

I’m working out at Paradise three times a week. I’m working out on my own, with professional advice and supervision. Could I do this anywhere else? Not in Carson City. Working out in a pool is easier than in a gym and more effective.

I’m going to end by giving you the first half of that second verse of Pink Floyd’s Breathe: “Run rabbit run, dig that hole forget the sun, when at last the work is done, don’t sit down it’s time to dig another one.”

If that’s how you’re living, you need to understand that the only hole you’re digging is the one they will bury you in. Don’t do it. Take the first step in the other direction and meet me at Paradise.

Believe it, or not, there are some good things about getting old. One is that you get old, as opposed to the alternative, and there’s only one alternative to getting old. Another is that you get mellower. You develop an ability to tolerate fools. Maybe not gladly, but you can tolerate them, all the same.

However, there are some things you just can’t tolerate, or at least that’s the case with Nancy and myself. We started swimming at the public pool and it was a thoroughly miserable experience. We hated the cold water. We hated the screaming, out of control kinds. We hated the unsanitary state of the change rooms, we hated… well, there’s no need to go on.

Then, we walked into Paradise.

If Nancy and I never see the inside of a public pool again, as long as we live…. Wait a second. I don’t think that’s an if.

Actually, it is an “If”. If we ever see the inside of a public pool again, it won’t be in Carson City. It won’t be in Carson City, because we have been to Paradise. Hallelujah, brothers and sisters, there are no mobs of out of control children running amok and screaming like banshees.

The pool is heated! The saltwater is so much better for our skin than chlorine. The locker rooms are as clean as they would be if we ran the establishment ourselves, which we don’t need to do, because management understands how to keep us paying customers happy.

You know the old story about not being able to teach old dogs new tricks? Don’t you believe a word of it. Nancy and I are proof to the contrary.

Starr has taught us all sorts of new tricks about staying healthy and agile. Starr takes the time to not only design an exercise routine for us, she also explains how and why it works. She tells you what muscles are being exercised, and how the whole routine connects one muscle group to another, for a whole-body workout.

After a few weeks in Starr’s care, you start to understand how your body works. It’s like taking a physiology class all over again, except this time you’re paying attention! Can’t teach old dogs new tricks? They sure can at Paradise!

Having established that Paradise is great for your physical health – no one in their right mind would say that their facilities and expertise are anything less than first-rate - let me tell you how the spa is good for your mental health, too.

As is the case with most things, it’s the people who make the difference. When Nancy and I paid our first visit to Paradise we met Perry. Despite the fact that it was after hours, Perry jumped into the pool and put us through a truncated class. He didn’t have to do that. He wanted to.

And it’s not just the Paradise staff. The members are all good, solid people.

Remember me saying that it’s easier to suffer fools as you get older? Haven’t met one yet, at Paradise.

As the residual anesthesia from my knee surgery wore off, I flashed back to my entrance into Paradise. My pedicurist had recommended the spa to me, as a more holistic alternative to aqua classes at the community pool.

I was thoroughly impressed from the moment I walked into Paradise. But, before I could start classes, I blew my knee out.

Cleared by my doctor to start exercising, I went back to Paradise. All was going well. I was loving the personal attention and was feeling better for it. Then, lightning struck, for a second time. My back began to complain.

I told Starr about my discomfort. She told me to consult my doctor. I didn’t want to admit it to myself; however, she was right. It was serious. I was going to have to go under the knife, again.

As I was being prepped for back surgery, it dawned on me that I was alone in a room full of people. Alone with my thoughts, that is.

Someone once said a surgeon can cut out everything but the cause. I wondered what I had done to necessitate an operation. I didn’t know.

But I did know what I would do to return to my strong confident self – get back to Paradise, ASAP.

Paradise was on my mind as the anesthetist sent me to la-la-land. The surgeon would do his thing, then it would be up to me. Up to me and Starr, actually. She’d told me to see my doc about my back pain, and she’d be waiting for me, with a smile,  back at the pool, when I was ready.

My first day back at the pool I was so excited to see Starr, leading an Ai Chi class in the Paradise therapy pool.  My spirits soared being where I could do something about my pain with my friends.

I had a feeling of helplessness when I went in for back surgery. Surgeons work on you, not with you. That’s not a fault, of course, it’s just reality.

The dynamic is different when you are rehabbing. After physical therapy was over I needed to keep going with my program.  Starr worked with me on that. I really feel that she is extremely knowledgable, and together we developed a routine that I could do on my own.

Starr eclipsed my feelings of helplessness with the self-confidence she instilled in me.  I am grateful for the help she’s given me.

The two most precious commodities in life are time and health. Thanks to medical sciences, humans are living much longer than before – more time!

But, if you’re not healthy, more time can be wasted time. If you’re constantly ill, in pain, you’re not enjoying the gift of more time. Luckily, more time and be good time, if you apply what has been discovered about the keys to good health into your everyday life.

That’s why I can be found at Paradise almost every day. I am becoming the me I wanna be - pain-free.

It didn’t take me long to understand that I am hooked on health, and as soon as I did, I upgraded my monthly membership to an annual. Best ROI you can imagine!

I know for a fact that I am not the only one around here who is too headstrong to take sound advice when it’s offered, so I am not embarrassed to share with you this tale of almost monumental stubbornness.

My friend, Starr, who works at Paradise, once told me that she might be able to do something about a non-stop pain in my foot. But I didn’t even think of taking her up on her offer until I found myself sitting on the floor, in a grocery store, because I couldn’t take another step.

My doctor and offered little help to alleviate my foot pain. It’s depressing when the doctor only wants to give you pain meds. I needed another option. I decided to call Starr.

I’ll tell you, it’s a wake-up call when you can’t even walk because your foot hurts so much. I was pissed off at myself for letting things get so bad. And I was scared. Would I be able to walk ever again? Was this my life going forward?

Starr sat down with me and gave me some hope. She recommended an exercise program that might alleviate my chronic foot pain.

I suppose you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that exercise is good for a body and soul. But some of us just have to learn the hard way.

When I went to Paradise, I was struck by something; everyone had positive stories of pain relief.  They were all there because they had physical problems, but they were dealing with them, and feeling better. Regular exercise was making a difference in their lives. Profoundly simple. Simply profound!

Starr was right, and Paradise is a paradise for me. I’ve been exercising in the pool for a while now, and my foot is getting better. Honestly, I regret not listening to Starr a long time ago.

Yeah, sometimes it’s a bother to get to Paradise every day, and some days I don’t, because I just can’t, what with work, family and all those other little life things that get in the way of living healthy 24/7. But I get there as often as I can.

The thing is that, once you start to get results, positive results, the obstinance that held you back gets transformed into a kind of obstinance that works for you. You become determined to correct what you got wrong, especially when it’s health-related, and chronic pain is the other option.

So, I was sitting in the hot soaking pool, at Paradise, the other day. A couple of my new friends and I were marveling at what a fantastic place it is. Seriously! It really is fantastic. No one who frequents the spa would say otherwise.

Every one of us is living a better life since we walked through the doors of Paradise. But I guess that’s why it’s called Paradise, right?

And it’s not just all the exercise. I get worked over good on the massage table and let me tell you, that’s pretty fantastic.  And there’s a first-rate hair and nail salon that make me look better than I feel!

And the people, staff, and members, are all great. There’s a real sense of community.

Carson City is lucky to have Paradise!

Hello Carson City. I’ve been reading other peoples’ stories about how Paradise has helped (and is helping) them drastically improve their physical health, and I’ve been inspired to add my voice to theirs.

Before I tell you just how truly awful things got for me – and I’m talking about a ten-year-long nightmare you would not wish upon your worst enemy – let me first tell you that my life has gotten so much better in the two months I’ve been a regular at the spa.

Yes, just two months. In two months I have found hope; hope where there was only despair, before.

In two months I have vastly improved my physical condition. This, in turn, has allowed light to enter into the darkness that was, slowly but surely, consuming my soul.

I was in the Paradise pool, the other day, having just finished a class. I was tired but in a good way. There’s a big difference between being sick-tired, and being getting-healthy-tired.

Sick-tired is testicular cancer. Sick-tired is radiation therapy. Sick-tired is being prescribed all sorts of steroids to counteract the radiation. Sick-tired is having your metabolism pretty much shut down because of the steroids, and gaining 160 pounds. Sick-tired is enduring all of the above for close to a decade.

I was sick and tired of being sick-tired when I went to Paradise. Perry and Starr said they would show me what getting-healthy-tired feels like. As I watched the two of them talking the other day, while I bobbed up and down, I smiled. I hurt, a little, but it hurt so good!

One of the things that makes a community a community is common stories. Every member I’ve met at Paradise has a story of how their health deteriorated – suddenly, or over time - and Paradise became a necessary life change. All of our stories are different, naturally. Different details, but threads run through them, as they are usually fascinating, often tragic. Mine happens to be pretty spectacular.

I was sharing my story with a new friend in the change room. He didn’t know that Disneyworld has its own hospital. I know, because I almost died there.

When I was done with the tale, my new friend laughed. I asked why he was laughing. “Because,” he said, “Paradise is where you come for a happy ending to your Disney story.”

I laughed, “Me and everyone else here!”

My wife and I were warming down from a class at Paradise. I purchased my own year-long membership the day I walked into. Three days later, I bought one for my wife. Now we come three days a week, minimum.

In the two months since I signed on, I‘ve lost 50 pounds, and rarely feel sick-tired, anymore (my nutritionist shares credit on that accomplishment).

My wife was looking at the others in the pool. She looked pensive. “Que pasa?” I asked.

”All these broken people,” she said.

“All these healing people,” I corrected.

She smiled and came to me. I could feel the love radiating from her (that’s my kind of radiation therapy!). We had been through absolute Hell. Paradise is the opposite of Hell.

“Thank you for bringing us here,” my wife smiled.

“I love you.”

It’s interesting, possibly tragic, how a silly social inhibition can keep you from doing the right thing.

Like so, so many others, I have a body image issue. I have bulges and scars that look better covered up. In a world that worships beauty, I hate the way I look in the mirror.

I used to love to walk with friends before my failing health prevented me from doing so. Now my knee hurts so bad anymore. “Exercise hurts,” I said, honestly. “I’m in no shape to exercise,” I joked, gallows humor. My daughter did not laugh.

“Exercise doesn’t hurt when you’re in the water.” my daughter assured me. I didn’t believe her, she’s my daughter.  Actually, I knew she was right. She said she’d start exercising with me, but I’m not so sure.

I’d been having my hair done by Perry for almost 30 years. He was always trying to get me to get in the pool, but I was always reluctant.

One day though, I was in so much pain I admitted to myself that I was finally going to have to get in the pool. Perry was thrilled to hear that after he’d urged me to do so for more than a year.

Freshly coiffed, he showed me what classes I should take and how to sign up for them on the tablet by the front desk. It was super easy even though I am not very techy.

We went out to the pool and watched a class. They were enjoying themselves, working out, and nobody’s hair was wet. “Well,” I thought, “if they can enjoy themselves in there, why can’t I?”

It still took my daughter some time to convince me that being embarrassed in a bathing suit is silly. I remember Perry saying “Vanity kills”. Well if there was any chance I was going to be in less pain I was going to do it.

I wasn’t sure how much exercise I could take. I still thought exercise hurts and I’m in no shape to exercise!”

“Oh, hush,” my daughter smiled. “Let’s get in the pool!”

The water felt good! A half-hour of exercise did not hurt, at all! The water makes all the difference!

My classmates - all of them friendly, helpful, and happy - made it all fun! They even convinced me that it was safe to move into the deeper end of the pool for part of my first class. “Miracles aplenty, here in Paradise,” I smiled, as I followed them.

It all seems so long ago, now. The other me, painfully self-conscious, so reluctant to take the plunge into a healthy lifestyle, is gone. Long gone!

Remember how I could barely walk at the beginning? I can take walks, with my friends, again! Some of them are my new friends, who I met at Paradise.

A couple of weeks ago, I bought a new, leopard print swimsuit, and strutted around for my friends to admire! Me! Modeling a swimsuit!

A year or so ago, I had started out with a half-hour class. Now, I’m at Paradise three times a week, for the hour-long sessions. And, remember, I’m the one who was afraid to go into the deep-end of the pool, and now it’s no problem.  Honestly, I feel young again!

Hello Carson City! I’ve been reading these stories for months now and I find them very interesting. As I am part of the Paradise community I find the tales give me a sense of pride. 

When I read the stories as a person going into life’s 3rd act they give me hope. I am so happy for the people featured in them because they have overcome so much. 

But as fascinating as the stories are, I noticed there was something missing from them. My story is totally different from all the stories so far, so I told Starr and Perry that I wanted to tell my story. What’s different about me is that there was nothing seriously wrong with me when I came to Paradise. I was merely suffering from sitting disease and since I retired, a case of house gravity.

I swear, Hollywood could make fifty films based on the lives of the struggles of the people in the Paradise community. 

So far as I know, there are no Supermen working out at the facility. There may be a spy, or two, but if there are they are really good, ‘cause they’ve got me fooled! So I am not talking about those kinds of movies. 
I’m talking about films about every day people overcoming every day, but terrible physical problems. Real heroes overcoming real problems. My problem is a fear of drowning, not water, just drowning. 
But here is my message to you – don’t let your health get so bad that someone could turn your life into a heart breaking, disaster film. That’s no way to treat your family. 

I don’t have any major physical problems. I am fairly fit for a man my age. And I plan to stay that way. That’s why I came to Paradise in the first place. 
I wasn’t exactly ready for the Senior Olympics, mind you. I had my aches and pains. And things that were so simple when I was young, and/or younger, had become challenges. Things like climbing stairs two at a time or squatting down to pick up a quarter off the floor. Before I started coming to Paradise, I was starting to wonder when Washington was going to abolish stairs in favor of escalators! 

Now? I don’t mind taking the stairs, and I’m comfortable getting in the water to exercise. 

I guess what I’m saying is… wake up, people! We’re all getting older, and there is no Fountain of Youth. Actually, there is. It’s here at Paradise. 

Taking an hour long pool exercise class three times a week is not going to make you look like Johnny Depp or Madonna. But… hey, wait a minute. They’re both pushing sixty, so maybe you can look that good… if you’re 45! For sure, you’ll feel stronger and more energetic. 
It’s pretty simple stuff, friends. A healthy life is a better life. No matter what other problems you may have in this strange experience we call life, being healthy makes them easier. Ask anyone here, they’ll tell you so. But you already know this, right? Do you really need to suffer a major health setback to get your act together enough to do what you already know you need to do?

I’d put some weight on after my first hip replacement surgery. Talk about rubbing salt into a fresh wound, huh? 

Hip replacement surgery, while becoming more and more common, is not a little thing. It’s a last resort, when all else has failed to alleviate debilitating pain. I am talking about excruciating pain from walking. Just from walking. Not from running a marathon, or climbing a mountain. Just from walking. 

Walking is a simple pleasure. I took it for granted, until I could barely do it anymore. So, I was looking forward to walking again, after my surgery. Then I put on weight while recovering, which made it hard to walk. Clearly, I needed a Plan B. “Come with me to paradise,” a friend said. That became Plan B. It should have been Plan A.

My friend had been taking water cardio classes at Paradise three times a week, when she urged me to join her. She’d lost weight. I’ve always loved being around water, so I was not hesitant to join her when she pointed out the obvious to me. You are buoyant in the water, so exercising is not tantamount to taking a literal physical pounding. In fact, exercising in water is so easy on your joints that it doesn’t hurt. You hardly know you are working out, until the results become obvious. I had just never thought of exercising in water until she brought it up. 
I lost 20 pounds pretty quickly. All the weight I’d put on after surgery melted off in the Paradise pool. I wonder how much body fat has melted off in that pool? A lot! 

Did I mention that working out at Paradise is actually fun? It is! So much fun that it’s addictive. It’s a good thing that it’s addictive, because I had to have a second hip replacement surgery. 
Shotgun, both barrels. Bang, Bang! But I’m not dead! “Missed me, missed me, Mr. Reaper, you ain’t gonna kiss me!” 
Recovering from the second surgery was much easier than the first, and I credit Starr and the rest of the Paradise staff for that. If not for them, I’d have been in poor physical condition going into the operating room. 
But three-a-week sessions following my first hip replacement made it possible for me to skip a lot of pain and suffering after my second. And for that, I am eternally grateful, to Starr and the Paradise people, and my friend who introduced me to Paradise. 

I’ve been going to Paradise for a year and a half. The term ROI springs to mind when I think about Paradise. ROI stands for Return On Investment. 
I’m no Warren Buffet. I don’t have much money invest. But I have time to invest. Time to invest in myself. And after my first hip replacement, I realized it was time to invest in myself. In my health. 
What have I gotten in return for my investment? Better health, obviously. Physical and mental. Just ask my husband. 
Three times a week. Are you seriously going to tell me you can’t afford that? Are you going to tell me that your time is so precious that you can’t afford to invest some of it in your health? Seriously? 

I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease two years ago. In reality, Parkinson’s had started creeping in at least three years before that. As a violin teacher, I’d noticed that my bow handling was getting more and more robotic, but I ignored it. 

Do not ignore the little signs. Talk to your doctor about even the smallest things if they are persistent. 

When my massage therapist noticed that my arms didn’t swing when I walked, I had to stop living in denial and face reality. Unfortunately, my current reality is that I am stiff as a board, and my body shakes when I try to do anything. Unless I am submerged in water, that is.

Gravity is a damnable thing to Parkinson’s victims. Being in water is close to Nirvana for us. Paradise, Nirvana, same thing, right? 

I wish my house was underwater. I wish I was a mermaid. I wish I didn’t have Parkinson’s Disease. None of those wishes are going t come true anytime soon, if ever, so I am grateful to Starr and her team at Paradise for making life more bearable. 

If you don’t know anything about Parkinson’s Disease let me tell you this. It’s caused by the gradual loss of dopamine producing cells in the brain. Dopamine? It regulates movement. And emotion. 
So, as your brain stops making dopamine, you get stiffer. And you get tremors. You can become depressed and anxious. The side effects of the drugs they prescribed 
were awful. I had no desire to live in a haze, so I went to Paradise. 

If you want to understand how absurdly difficult life can be for someone afflicted with Parkinson’s Disease, consider this: I feel stiffness and tightnessunder my hair. It’s like wearing a hat that is two sizes too small. Crazy, huh? 

But that all changes when I jump in the pool at Paradise. As soon as I hit the water I go from feeling like the Tin Man after the monsoon season, to feeling like Jane Freaking Fonda, some sort of ninja ballerina. 

I can move to the music in my head when I go through my routine that Starr designed for me personally. There is NO WAY I could go through one of Starr’s workout sessions out of the pool. I would look and feel like a zombie trying to do yoga. 

I feel so good after my sessions in the Paradise pool. My muscles are softer, my range of motion is better. Any pain I wake up with disappears. Even when I have my bad days I really want to come to Paradise.

Riding a bike is when I feel most “normal”. Biking in the water is an awesome experience. It’s fun, and if it’s fun you will do it! Even life on land is better on the days I can’t make it to Paradise. 

Next I’m going to try the infrared sauna. I am told that infrared heat helps PD symptoms go away. 

Short of a cure for Parkinson’s, Paradise is the best thing I can wish for, and I don’t need a genie to grant that wish. 

There is an enduring debate over whether or not you should trust your mechanic. The basic argument, of course, is that while your mechanic may be competent enough to fix your car, he may also be unscrupulous enough to make sure you have to keep coming back, by fixing one thing, but breaking another. 

I was plagued by a not dissimilar problem a couple years ago, but it was not about something as trifling as my car, it was about my spine. 

I’d had a spinal fusion in 2011. When I started to get pains again, I went to a physiotherapist, who asked about my exercise habits. I told her I was working out at the public pool. Wrong, she said, go to Paradise and see Starr.

Now, I don’t want you to get the idea that the staff at the public pool were trying to harm me, in order to keep me coming back and refilling their coffers. Perish the thought. Fine people, all of them. 

No, mine is not a story about unscrupulous individuals. It is, rather, a story about some purported professionals being less competent than others. The nice folk at the public pool simply lack the expertise of Starr and her staff at Paraidise. My physiotherapist understood this, and so did I just a few weeks after taking out a membership. 

It was the difference between night and day. The staff at the public pool were well intentioned, but what do they say the road to Hell is paved with? Hell is the opposite of Paradise, right? 

Spinal fusion surgery is a last resort for those of us who suffer debilitating back pain. If you have never experienced painful problems with your back, thank your lucky stars, because it is a truly horrendous plight to have to suffer through. 
As I say, the surgery is the last resort. So, if you are starting to experience back pain, if you are not yet enduring protracted and substantial discomfort, you should start taking counter measures pronto. 

By all means, consult your doctor, but I am confident he or she will tell you to start a regimen of physiotherapy that includes water based exercise. 

If you want to save a couple bucks by trying the public pool, go right ahead. But remember, you get what you pay for. 

At Paradise, what you’re paying for is relief from pain. What you’re paying for is better health. What you’re paying for is expert care and maintenance. 

Starr knows what works for whatever problems you are having. And she knows what doesn’t work for those problems, too. I have been working out in the pool, thinking I was doing something right, only to have Starr come over and say, “Do this Loraine.” 

If I miss a few consecutive sessions at Paradise, I can feel it. And every time I start to feel it, I know that my options are clear – get back in the pool, or go back to the operating room. It’s a simple decision to make, and I advise you to think about what your next move is. 

I’m a woodworker. A cabinet maker. Have been for a long time. It’s grueling work. Physically demanding. 

After long years of hard labor, I was promoted to management. I don’t have to do as much punishing work as I used to, and it’s a good thing, because all that backbreaking work was literally backbreaking. 

Wait. I never literally broke my back, but I sure did do some damage, and I really felt it when I was required to move heavy stuff around, which I still am, from time to time. 
When I was out of the office, pitching a potential customer, I noticed Paradise. I walked, across the street, and through the doors. B I N G O! 
One look around, and I knew Paradise is what my aching back needed.

I wasn’t going to be a fulltime desk-jockey. To keep my job, I was going to have to be fit enough to step away from the desk, and get physical, and there’s no such thing as, “Fake it ‘til you make it,” when you have to push and shove. 

The aquacise class I was taking at Paradise was great for relieving the pain in my back. But when I met Starr, and she showed me some stretches, and exercises, specifically for my back, everything changed. My back not only stopped hurting, it felt strong again. 

The stretches released the strain in my muscles from my hips to my ribs. Then Starr hooked me up to the Aqualogix drag equipment, which increased resistance. That’s how you strengthen your back. And that’s how you keep your job. 

I no longer fear that my back problems, now minor, will result in me losing my job. I have to be careful, but I can still bull around heavy stuff with the kids, thanks to Paradise. 

My job demands a lot of my time, so I don’t always get to spend as much time at Paradise as I’d like. Mostly, I like going in on Saturdays, when it’s not so busy. I workout on my own, but I still take the occasional class to learn new things I can do to improve on what I’ve already achieved. 

And the far infrared sauna is a perfect compliment for my exercise regimen. An hour in the pool, followed by a half hour, sometimes more, in the sauna, and I feel like a million bucks. 

Sometimes, after a good workout, I just float around on a noodle, weightless and care free. And pain free! 

On a lazy Saturday afternoon, Paradise is a much better place than the couch. 



Some of the kids at the shop are intrigued by my comeback. I suppose they thought it was over for me, the poor old-timer. But I showed ‘em! And they now know that I’ll be around until I take my retirement. 



Those kids think they’re indestructible. Well, so did I. But they will learn, probably the hard way, that a lifetime of physical toil comes at a price. I tell them they should get ahead of the game, by coming to Paradise, but they don’t listen. Something tells me that I’ll see them at Paradise, sooner or later.