Thought I'd sneak in to the wellness center around noon. Surely, there wouldn't be anyone there. I walked into a pool filled with people, average age was 70. Most must have seen the disappointment on my face. I'm tired with being the odd kid out. I've been blown off plenty of times, too, as I've tried to start simple conversations.
So, I found a corner and started moving my legs and arms. Bouncy. Bouncy. Any movement is good. Have to get my hip moving. Surely I'd be safe from all the death stares, especially if I splashed water on to one of the ladies' heavily lacquered hair. I looked across the pool and there was this...well...I'm not sure how to say it nicely.
There was this guy with gray curly hair, sideburns, male-patterned baldness, flashy pink clip-on earrings, and a tulip-bottomed bathing suit. I took a double-look, triple-look, and then decided that I was seeing what I was seeing. He was off by himself as well. Is this what my life has come to? Because I'm younger than the other people at the pool, I have to be ostracized like the guy who wants to be or dress like a woman in his elder years? Don't get me wrong. I support many different lifestyles. I just didn't need to be classified this way today. Actually, for several moments, I thought about floating over to talk to him, but I couldn't stand it if he rejected me, too.
I looked over at the lady next to me. She said, "You looked pretty disappointed when you came in here." I laughed and kinda lied that I was hoping it wasn't going to be this crowded. She said that it's filled with Baby Boomers. I told her I was one, too, and then she started to argue with me. "No you're not."
"Yes, I am. I'm on the tail end," I replied. So she made me validate my age. "I'll be 52 this Sunday," I said.
She argued with me again. "No you won't. You don't look a day over 40."
I smiled, laughed loudly, and told her thank you in many ways. Of course, that comment led us into a very long conversation.
I learned that she'd just gotten back from Corpus Christi, where she'd wintered with a friend and her husband. I told her that I used to live there, as a Naval kid. She told me her friend lived in Flour Bluff. I told her that I used to go to elementary school there in the late 60s and early 70s. I added that I still have my perfect attendance certificate from Flour Bluff Elementary School. She said that her friend was the principle there. We reminisced about scorching sand, endless water, sunny skies, cockle burs, lizards, roaches, real Mexican restaurants, and crabbing.
I shared with her my dream to sell my house; buy a small, light-weight trailer; and travel to New Mexico, Arizona, Texas, California, Oregon, and Washington. I told her that when my money was close to running out, I'd select which place I wanted to live out the rest of my years. As I was describing this to her, she took in a breath and held it, and then she said, "You won't believe this, but I have a friend who's doing just that!" Which, as fate would have it, drove us into another realm of excited discussion.
There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met. -- William Butler Yeats
You're awesome. I love your perspective.
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