WEEKEND WRITE IN PROMPTS

Part 39: ADVENT 02 Dec; DRUNK 09 Dec; UPDATE 16 Dec

 ADVENT   DRUNK

 02 Dec        09 Dec

The weather outside wasn't bad even though it is now the middle of December, so I decided to stumble around the block. Stumble, for me, is the most appropriate term as I have never been able to walk along in a straight line. I remember as a teenager walking (weaving) along in front of my Mom and Dad and my Dad asking me, "are you drunk?" I wasn't of course.

My weaving as I walk has gotten a bit worse as I have gotten older, some say already exceeding my "sell by" date. My wife and I moved into a 55 and older community to take advantage of all the activities offered, not to mention nice, well-built, houses with a lot. And we were fortunate enough to move in among a group of very nice neighbors, they being also at or beyond their "sell by".

If my memory is right, and I will not take any bets that it is, it was the Dianne Keaton movie POMS that labeled this type of community as "pre-cemetery housing". There were a few who did not see the humor in this. But, most of us have come to grips with where we are in life. We easily take the inconsiderate geriatric jabs seen and heard in television and movies for the humor in which they were intended.

At any rate, my blood pressure and cholesterol say I need more exercise than it takes to eat my way through the goodies usually found in an advent calendar. So, I walk (when I manage to rip my roots out of my recliner, but whatever). Slipping my feet into my loafer-style Sketcher Walkers, as bending to tie the laces on tennis shoes is a workout regimen in itself, I weave out onto the sidewalk.

UPDATE

16 Dec

With a mental coin toss, I selected the direction that would take me up the shorter but steeper incline allowing a longer more gradual descent down the other side. Coming toward me was Tony From Around The Corner. He lived in the adjoining neighborhood and walked far more than I did. Seeing him out and about wasn't uncommon.

"Sup Tony? How are you doing this fine day?" We generally passed the time of day when we met unless the distance only allowed a wave to each other.

"It is amazing dude," he said with a smile, "woke up to find myself above ground once again. Miracle of miracles!"

"Hey, we're just hitting our stride," I said, turning to head back in the direction he was walking, "I'll head your way while you give me an update on the latest gossip. I heard you joined the lady's knitting club so you could keep up."

"Ha! You don't have to join the lady's knitting club around here everyone is eager to bend your ear with juicy gossip. And if there is not any they will make it up."

"Yeah, I know. The news is always abundant and occasionally accurate."

"Did you hear about Herb my neighbor?" Tony asked, and I shook my head no, "Herb was trying to put a leash on his little chihuahua, he missed and wound up leashing his foot instead and the little rat escaped."

"Oh my," I said, already wondering about the accuracy of this story, "did they find him?"

"Oh yeah," about an hour later the horny little bugger was found exhausted and feet up after a romantic interlude with a concrete rabbit ornament in a flower bed." I caught his glance as he attempted to see if I bought this tall tail.

"You have to watch those little ones," I said straight-faced, "You can lose a pair of shoes easy. And get this, you know Al's, old lady?"

"Yep. Got that wayward eye everyone says she can zap you with."

"That's her. Mean woman, scary. Anyway, she was walking past Frida's house, sweet woman Frida has a kind word for everyone, and that practically feral cat that roams the neighborhood was laying in wait under a shrub. She got close and the cat launched himself in an attack to shred her ankles when she bulged that wayward eye out and hissed like a bag full of snakes. That cat came straight up off the ground in a back flip with a double twist trying to reverse his charge. His claws dug up grass as he ran off howling like his tail was on fire. Nobody's seen him since, and good riddance I say."

"Doesn't surprise me, doesn't surprise me a bit," Tony said with a pretty straight face, probably convinced I was as bad as he at making up far-fetched tales.

We had reached Tony's house so he peeled off wishing me a good day. And since I had made about 600 yards in my outing, I figured I had done my aerobic duty so I headed back to the comfort of my recliner. All in all a good day.