Today is my birthday. I am thirty-five years old. According to the last good book I read, this means that I am half way through my time travel, my travel through time. It doesn’t feel like that – it doesn’t feel like half way. The prestige number-plate on my Fiasco says OAP 5. I’ve got the mind of a kid, but I’m a pretty senior partner over at Rug & Gut & Gum. It feels as though I have just started out. It feels as though I am just about to end, just about to end. That’s what it feels like.