Tony Sparrow, who rides his bike off dirt jumps, is ten.

Tony Sparrow, who dates the captain of the cheerleading team, is seventeen.
After high school he’ll never see her again.

Tony Sparrow, who is majoring in macroeconomics, is twenty-two.
This is the toughest exam he’s ever seen.

Tony Sparrow, who is getting married this afternoon, is thirty-one.
His wife-to-be (not a cheerleader) still needs something blue.

Tony Sparrow, whose third child was just born, is forty-five.
A couple more months of sleepless nights will be fun.

Tony Sparrow, who is test driving a Corvette, is just shy of sixty.
Who wouldn’t want a fast, red machine to drive?

Tony Sparrow, who was about to turn ninety, is dead.
His last thought was, Life wasn’t that shitty.

Tony Sparrow, Jr., who is burying his father today, is fifty-eight.
It is a day that all sons dread.

But that’s another story, mate.