This will be a short and inconsequential post (yes, I know … you come here for long and consequential. Sorry. Not today). I am in the park as I usually am on Saturday mornings, writing and reading and thinking and doing all those things a sometimes spiritual curmudgeon does to start off his weekend right, including re-establishing contact with an old friend and sponsor. It is a gorgeous day and I am looking forward to slinging my camera over my shoulder and taking a walk. According to my Fitbit, I will break 25 miles again this week and, although my waistline doesn’t appear to have benefited from the exercise, my legs are feeling as fit as they have in quite a while.
A few minutes ago, having finished a large cup of Mickey Dee’s coffee, I needed to take what my grandkids would call a potty-break at a nearby restroom. One advantage of our park for seniors like myself is that it is almost impossible to find a parking place that is more than a short, brisk walk from a bathroom. Yes, Younger Eyes, as you age you will come to understand why that is an advantage for Older Eyes. As I approached the men’s room, a woman came out of the adjacent ladies room and began calling at the men’s room door. A medium sized dog came to the door and stood looking up at her with its fabric leash dragging along behind. A few seconds later, her husband (the woman’s husband, not the dog’s) followed. She looked down at the dog trotting her way and said, Why did you let go of the leash? Look, it’s all wet from the bathroom floor. What’s the big deal? Hubby said, picking up the end of the leash and shaking it out. That’s disgusting, the woman said. Now we’re going to have to wash it. It’ll dry, Hubby said.
Sometimes, life is so much simpler for Guys, don’t you think?