The Old Coot walks in
style
By Merlin Lessler
I broke in a new pair of
sandals the other day. Without socks! Young guys often wear socks with sandals.
Black crew socks. It used to be the old fogies who did that – now, it’s sort of
nuevo chic. But old guys don’t want to look like those old fogies we laughed at
when we were the young guys. So we don’t wear the black socks. Like that’s
going to fool anyone.
Anyhow, I had these new
sandals on my bare feet, all day. Walking around; riding my bike, mowing the
lawn. I ended up with blisters! – “Great!” I said to myself. Now I have
something to complain about on Tuesday, complaint day for the old guys I hang
around with. We got tired of listening to each other’s belly-aching every day,
so we restrict it to one day a week. Sometimes on the off days, we have nothing
to talk about.
Those sandal blisters
would be perfect for my turn. It’s a double complaint. First, I can discuss the
issue of frailty, how my whole darn body is falling apart. It isn’t quite there
yet, but it sure feels that way sometimes. The blisters will allow me to
complain about the thin skin, something that happens to you as you age. An
innocent bump into a sharp edge gets us scampering for a tissue to blot up the
blood and a band aid to stop the flow.
Then, I could shift my
complaint to the sandals. “They don’t make them like they used to,” sort of
thing, and then move on to other poorly made things. Grocery bags, for instance,
that I have to purchase when I forget to bring my own (which is usually the
case). If you grab one of today’s bags by the top edge, to heft it up so you
can get your hand under the bottom, the chances are pretty good that it will
tear open, causing contents to spill all over the checkout lane. I’ve been that
guy, holding up the line. It isn’t fun! Anyhow, those blisters from my new
sandals, made my day.
Comments? Send to
mlessler7@gmail.com
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