I’m learning how to ride a bike again. They say once you learn how to ride a bike, you never forget but it’s not so much that my brain forgot how to do it; my body just has no recollection of how to proceed.

The last time I rode a bike was in high school, some forty odd years ago. I was young, I was lithe, I weighed about 98 pounds. I rode easy and effortlessly, gliding through the neighborhood, even venturing to take my hands off the handlebars once in a while.

It’s different now. My body has changed. My center of gravity has shifted, my knees are weak, my arms have lost all muscularity. I remember what to do: put my feet on the pedals, move my legs, steer with arms, keep my balance. But my body does not want to cooperate and instead of rolling along down the sidewalk, I weave and wobble and eventually end up on the grass, my bicycle on top of me.

I’ve forgotten more things than I remember in my life. This is what happens when you get older and you are still learning things. I think of my brain as having finite space. As I keep gaining knowledge, there’s nowhere to keep other things like the nine times table or how to drive a stick shift and they slip from my mind, replaced by newer things like the lyrics to the new American Football album or the stats of the newest Islanders goalie. My brain is a jumble of facts and figures and memories and pulling out what’s needed from amid all the detritus gets harder as I get…