In a few days, I will turn threescore years and 10, or in modern parlance: I’ll be 70 years old. Man, that age sounds rickety to me. After poking around online yesterday, I discovered a site featuring a “life expectancy calculator” that estimates how much longer I’ll still be drinking coffee every morning. One of the questions asked of me was inadequate, and I fudged on another, but according to this life expectancy site, I will likely be sipping my cup of Joe for another 19 years. Knock off six years for my tomfoolery on the site, and I still have a way to go. Good news? Bad news? I suppose that will depend on the state of my health. All I can say for certain is that turning 70 seems impossible to me, a huge chunk of days, weeks, and months. Our republic is 245 years old, which means …