The heroes of our youth grow old - 'the boys of summer in their ruin', in Dylan Thomas's verse - yet we seem the same.

Pursuing employment or climatic relief, we live in voluntary exile from our extended families and our longer past, but in an involuntary exile from ourselves and our own past.

More fundamentally, it is a dream that does not die with the onset of manhood: the dream is to play endlessly, past the time when you are called home for dinner, past the time of doing chores, past the time when your body betrays you past time itself.

We know these men are professionals whose services are up for bid and whose bags are packed, and yet we call them our own and take personal, even civic pride in their accomplishments.

Saddam's fate should be in the hands of his country men. They were the major victims of his brutal reign and should decide his life, death, or permanent imprisonment. Personally, I would lock him away forever.

The death of Cyrille Regis, a giant in so many ways, was such a shock and deeply upsetting.

Terri's death brings to a close a very tragic, human and personal event that has left everyone with a feeling of emptiness, regardless of what side of the issue you may have been on.

Death frames the high wire. But I don't see myself as taking risks. I do all of the preparations that a non-death seeker would do.