“Only” 50

On an extremely windy day, Shiloh the Lab and I set out for our daily jog. Glancing up the street, I saw Don, my 84-year-old neighbor who is a thrice-a-day walker, gearing up for his second jaunt of the day. Noticing he was waiting to talk to me, I sped up a notch and heard him say, “Wha’cha doin’?”

Thinking perhaps his mind wasn’t keeping up with his years, I scrunched up my face and looked at him incredulously. “What am I doing?” the wind blew my words up the street to him.

“Naw, I can see what yer doin’. How’re yeh doin’?” he clarified in Kansas speak.

“Ahh,” I realized, sauntering to his side. As we walked together, I continued, “I’m doing better since I committed to writing my book. I went to a writers group last night where we discussed issues and questions important to us. Because of all the publishing experience I’ve had, I was able to share some knowledge with folks, but my questions weren’t answered. The gal who ran the meeting is researching for me, though, and will let me know. I just wish I had someone who’d throw a few hundred dollars at me every month to keep me going.”

“Well, yeh git Social Security, don’cha?” he asked.

“Don, I’m only 50!” blowing off a couple years.

He laughed, “Well, everyone I go to breakfast with gits Social Security, so I figgered you did too.”

So I’m going to breakfast with him in the morning.