He did take note when Vibratory Finishing Machine out at 66,000 miles and then again at the 70,000 mark a few short months later, but his thoughts centered mainly around how cool all the zeros looked. All in all, life was pretty darn swell for the young man and his car.

Until it wasn't.

The first symptoms were hardly noticed: An occasional delay starting the engine; a sudden backfire here and there morphed into a stead creaking squeak in the chassis which eventually joined forces with a shuddering wobble whenever he braked hard. But after warming up on the road, the car ran pretty much like it always had.

Until it didn't.

The end came quickly one bitter cold morning. The young man jumped in his car and turned the key. Nothing happened. He turned the key again. He pumped the gas pedal twisting the key back and forth in a frantic panic.

No spark. No life. Nothing.

Looking back, he had no one to blame but himself. His mother had given him good advice. His car had let him know early on that things were going wrong. Granted he was inexperienced, but there was no excuse for ignoring the obvious.

Why the young man did nothing when he was given every opportunity to address the problems long before they became unfixable is at the heart of the matter. As for the young man, he moved to New York City and joined the ranks of the walking masses.

However, you can't just walk away from a health problem, at least not for every long. Your body has ways of forcing you to pay if you've ignore it long enough.

Things don't usually start out that way. Back when pizza, burgers snack cakes and bagels with cream cheese and butter were your friends you had no concerns about your health. You could drink beer after beer, down multiple tequila shots, puff on cigarettes, take multiple bong hits and get very little sleep with little or no consequence.

Then gradually, imperceptibly, those same foods cause a negative backlash. Now, that same slice of pizza and beer settle like bronze paperweights in your stomach. Your knees and elbows pop and creak when sitting, or standing, while your favorite red meat goes down easy then comes back again and again in a nasty backwash of acidic broth.

Toxemia (symptomatic illness) takes a decade or so to affect your everyday life. Yet, the funny thing is most people are ready and willing to accept this slow demise of their health, citing the "natural aging process" or a "bad gene pool" as the reason why they can no longer sleep or take a meaningful poop.

Misery always loves a house full of company and commiserating about the "good ol' days" of having some decent pep in your step is something we're fond of doing. There's a certain amount of comfort in knowing that everyone else feels just as terrible as you do.