My folks are in their 80s now but just as sharp as ever. The other night we had dinner together and afterward we watched a couple episodes of "I, Claudius," which we preceded with a few minutes of the Antiques Roadshow.  Someone had an old American flag with 44 stars, which had to be handled with great care because it was made of linen, which apparently becomes very fragile with age. (Don't we all?) My mom said if you ever need to get rid of a flag, just give it to the Boy Scouts. "They have a ceremony they perform for retiring old flags." It was getting late by the time we had seen Caligula suggest to his to his frantic, syphilitic, uncle Tiberius the manner of disposing of the conniving, two-faced Janus, who, evidence showed, was plotting the Emperor's assassination. When I switched off the machine I left the DVD in so it would be easier to pick up the thread next time. Mom mentioned that dad was thinking about reading the Robert Graves novels upon which the series was based. I said I might still have my old paperback editions, but I doubted that they were still readable. They had to be at least thirty years old, and that cheap paper, full of acids, turns brown and falls apart with age. Mom said that a while back she was saddled with the task of getting rid of a crate of old Bibles someone had donated to the thrift shop where she works two days a week. A man had gotten a a bit agitated when he learned she planned to throw them out. "Look," she said to him, "they're falling apart. Do you want them?" He did not. I wondered aloud if there was a protocol for disposing of decrepit Bibles. "Maybe you can give them to the Boy Scouts?" At that point my dad, upon whose body the ravages if time have taken their toll but have thankfully left his wit intact, archly suggested that the old tomes could still be put to good use: "Take them to the outhouse!" We all had a good laugh. It was a perfect way to end the evening.