Friday Morning, 5:20 a.m. Maureen’s coffee is made and the newspaper is at the breakfast table. My coffee and ice water are in their respective travel mugs. My golf shoes are already on. All my golf doo dads are in the golf bag, the clubs and battery powered golf cart are in the car. i unhook the cart battery from its charger and put it in the back of hatchback. The house and outdoor lights are out. The house is locked.

i am ready to go except for one last thing. i walk to our garage refrigerator and open the door.

Now, this refrigerator is the successor to my original half-refrigerator for holding a couple of cases of beer. We then bought a new refrigerator for the kitchen and replaced my half one with the old one. A vision of happiness filled my thoughts as i imagined a keg in the bigger refrigerator. That vision never reached fruition as the gourmet chef of the house filled it with 438 different kinds of pasta, every frozen dinner Trader Joe ever considered, cereals, mystic health drinks, exotic ingredients too valuable to store in a pantry, and for me, a case of Topo Chico sparkling water and the small bottles of Gatorade for hot walks and golf rounds. Last week, recognizing there had been no beer in that refrigerator since the Sphinx was built, she conceded and brought home six-pack of Lagunitas Lil’ Sumpin’ IPA for me. i had one in celebration. There were five left.

i picked up a Gatorade in one hand and a IPA in the other. i looked at both. i considered my options. It was the Old Man Dilemma.

And in a victory for all things healthy and pure and medically approved, at least for the aged, i put the IPA back in the refrigerator and took the Gatorade with me.

i bragged about my will power and good intentions to my FMG buddies.

Later, i admitted i would have taken my beloved Lagunitas but i knew Maureen would open the garage refrigerator to get some exotic ingredient she stored there…

And she would count the bottles.

Dilemma solved: Good decision, if not an honorable one.