My Foray Into Old

Before I even start, I will allow you all to make fun of me because of my title today …

Now, on to business. While I was at lunch today, I saw a carload of old men come into the establishment in which I was dining. Now, when I say old, I don’t mean the recently indoctrinated into Sun City, I mean the “about to create a vacancy at Sun City”. They were wearing the typical old man attire for this weather: Short sleeve plaid sport shirt or polo, shorts pulled up to just below their man breasts, black socks and sandals. A few of them had Judge Smalls style hats and one had the big old wrap around sunglasses that go over their regular glasses.

I have seen this fashion disaster before. I have made Jackie promise that no matter what else, she does NOT let me ever dress like that. I was intrigued. The more and more I thought about these gentleman on my drive back to work, the more I wondered, how the hell can they wear their pants like that? the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. So, I did it.

When I got back to work, before I went back in, I hiked up my pants as high as I could and tried to walk through the parking garage. That was one of the most painful experiences of my life. I guess things just eventually die down there and nothing stops the crotch from rising higher and higher.

It was enough to convince me to hire a fashion consultant once I hit 65.

 

Until next time, remember … “You think you could keep us out of Florida? We’re moving in lock, stock and barrel. We’re gonna be in the pool. We’re gonna be in the clubhouse. We’re gonna be all over that shuffleboard court! And I dare you to keep me out!”

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