So there I sat, bare as a baby in a diaper under my swaddling cloths, nearly three-quarters of a century of experiences embodied in the sack of wrinkled gooseflesh uncomfortably enclosed... reviewing the table of contents for my "Apologia Pro Vita Sua." My "Scenes from the Seven Ages of Man"... or rather, of "A man".... Only why seven? Far be it from me to question Shakespeare or his source, apparently Ecclesiastes. But that seems an odd divisor,...