The Old Coot is a blabbermouth. October 28, 2020 Tioga County Courier Article

 

The Old Coot tells all!

By Merlin Lessler

 I’m a blabbermouth! Most old coots are. Tell us a secret and we go public! We love it when someone starts a sentence with, “Don’t let this out, but …..” – OR - “You can’t tell anybody this, but …” – OR - “We’re not announcing this yet, but …..” That’s a mistake, when you’re talking to a blabbermouth. Sometimes I write an article about someone’s embarrassing moment. I tell the story and end it with, “I can’t mention their name. It’s Daren Merrill. “ Or whoever made the mistake of telling me something they didn’t want published. I can’t help myself. It’s a sickness, Blabbermouthitis.

 Mike Coleman let it slip that he’d turned 50. I wasn’t sure how old he was until he presented me with a cane the other day. Not just a cane, an old coot cane, complete with a bicycle horn, a change purse, a pill box and two warning signs “A senior moment in progress” and “If found, please return to …” That’s when I learned he was over 50; he said he got the cane at his 50^th birthday party. He laughed as he handed it to me saying he knew I could put it to better use. He was right.  Did he want everyone to know he turned 50? I don’t know, but they do now.

 I plan to bequeath it back to him. He’ll need it someday. He has no idea how fast you go from fifty to eighty. Not that I’m eighty yet. I won’t say how old I am. I’m 77, a 77-year-old blabbermouth. When you’re a kid, it takes forever to go from ten to twenty, especially the period just before you’re old enough to get a driver’s license. It’s the longest period of your life. An eternity. But not so with fifty to eighty; those three decades fly by so fast your head spins.

 Mike will have to modify the cane; it works fine for me, but I’m six feet tall (or once was); he’s more like six foot seven.  I’m not sure if he wanted that publicized, but it’s too late now. Paul C., another coffee club attendee, confided something to me a week or so ago. I haven’t blabbed it yet, not because I’ve reformed; I just haven’t run into anyone to tell. It’s this darn pandemic. My lips are sealed, against my will.

 Comments? Send to – mlessler7@gmail.com