photo M. GinsonI'm mindful of lonely people. Especially elderly ones. I do my best to be nice. My parents are older... 77 and 83... and it's my hope that someone is being nice to them from time to time. I will likely be a lonely elderly person... in a couple of years time.
But... old people can be pricks too. I will be nice to you if you're lonely and polite... but if you're pushy and lonely... taste my cold shoulder, yo.
My mid-afternoon post-office/lunch break took me over to King's place where I grabbed a styrofoam enclosed meal of my choice. While I was standing in line this 5 foot tall stumpa stumpa kudzu encrusted hair dye cut ahead of me. I was braced for what came next because I'd been in her proximity during bus trips up to what we refer to as The North Shore. I've so far managed to steer clear of sitting anywhere close by to her then... for the following reason:
Without a "hi" "hello" "excuse me" Little Miss Garden Troll of 1937 she zips ahead of me and opens with: "I'm diabetic... I have diabetes... I'm almost 80... I'll be 80 next month... I'm a senior." All of this with no prompting, no intro and scarcely a breath between.
During the "exchange" that followed I believe the only things I said were, "ah" "yes" and "well."
I also learned: "I got this diabetes bracelet for a dollar... I bought it at a dollar store... I was a waitress at the cafeteria at UNB for ten years... at UNB... for ten years... I met Robert F. Kennedy... RFK... Bobby Kennedy... that was something."
Insert the "ahs" "yeses" and "well" wherever you feel they fit best.
And the Art Rock audience:
Then there is the Saturday night apres show beer and food at Molly's:
Then there is the apres-breakfast Sunday morning bowling at the Bowl-a-Drome on Main Street:
Then there is the Sunday afternoon Kitty Care:
