As my mother can attest, I am not a fan of the elderly. They are generally poor drivers, obnoxious shoppers, and confused and selfish voters. We do have two old old people who live on our street, and I like them both because I know them as neighbors who wave to us when we leave for school and arrive at home, and let us borrow their can openers and stuff. They are friendly and nice, partially because they're downtown old people and not snobby suburban old people.
A n y w a y,
The other day I walked by an old man who was near the university (I was walking around delivering inter-campus mail for my employer) who had just gotten off his bike and was speaking on his cell phone. He was telling the person on the other end about his day: "I went to the coffee shop and read the newspaper for a few hours, then I got stuck on one of them suh-dookies for another hour. You know, those number puzzles? Suhdookie."
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There's an old guy who lives down the block from me, who's always out manicuring his lawn. He's got to be in his eighties, and looks like the meanest old coot, all scowling whenever anyone drives by. But we met him at the block party a few months ago, and it turns out he's really sweet, just happens to have a sour face. It's nice to know he's not sending death rays at me on a daily basis, but now I'm minus a mock-ee. Crud.
Loved the gourd.
(here via NaBloPoMo)
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