SOCIALIZING

                                                           

 For years now, I have met with this motley group of old men who I coined, “The Sunshine Boys,” to have coffee and socialize with. It’s the “same old, same old,” every day. The same old people, and the same old stories, told over and over again. But, because our memories are going south as fast as our prostate glands, no one seems to care. I have found that men socialize, most often, by insulting each other, but they really don’t mean it. This, versus women who socialize by complimenting each other, and they don’t really mean it, either.

Men seem to be more blunt about how they talk to each other but you do, occasionally, meet a woman who says her piece. Once, at a book signing, I met a lady who expressed how sorry she was to hear of my wife’s passing. I thanked her, of course, and then she proceeded to tell me that her husband had died two years ago. When I told her I was sorry to hear that, she told me, “Don’t be” and walked away. I can’t help but feel, that someplace there is a cemetery, with a tombstone that says, “Here lies my husband let him lie. He’s at peace and so am I.”

Some women can’t ever take a compliment. My daughter-in-law is a wonderful cook, but every time I tell her that, or compliment her cooking, she says things like, “It’s missing something,” or “I cooked it too long.” Just once, I would like her to say, “Yes, that is good, isn’t it? I nailed it this time.” Then there are the ones who take things too much to heart. I once told my daughter, “Your cinnamon rolls are the best.” Now, if I saw her three times a week, she would have a pan of rolls ready for me every time. Next winter, I plan on staying in Mesa, with her and her husband, for a while. I’ll probably have to say something about all those rolls, or risk looking like the Pillsbury doughboy next spring. My wife would clean house for a week when company was coming, and then the first thing she said to them at the door was, “come on in—the house is a mess.” If someone liked her outfit, she would say, “Oh, this old rag. I didn’t know what to wear today so I threw this on.” Go figure, huh?

But back to the Sunshine Boys. For many of these men and women—yes, we have ladies stop by occasionally—who had productive careers, retirement came as somewhat of a shock. They were used to accomplishing things and working with people; being asked for advice and their expertise. Now, all of a sudden, they weren’t in charge of much of anything any longer, and if they had a spouse, they were probably in charge of a lot less than they claimed to be in charge of. In this group there are former police officers, firemen, business executives, a medical doctor, a pastor and a farmer, to name a few. But if you listen to them, you wouldn’t know any of this because, suddenly, they are all the same. Just a group of old people looking for companionship. Politics and religion are off the table, but every other topic is up for grabs. There is no prerequisite to join, but it helps to not be thin-skinned, because the banter can get pointed, but it is quickly forgotten. If this weren’t a family newspaper, I would share some things I have heard, but I better not.  I would like to remain a member, in good standing, of the Sunshine Boys!