Last weekend we attended a wedding of 29 somethings. It was a wonderful affair, high energy, lots of hip, well healed, well educated young people. People on their way to making their way in the world. From my vantage point at table 19 of 20, I made the observation that there were no grandmas or grandpas, you know those people who complain that the band was too noisy and the music unintelligible to ears weaned on Frank Sinatra and Tommy Dorsey (google them if you must). What has happened is that I, we have become the oldest people in the room. How did that happen? While not old enough for the younger dancers to form a circle of encouragement around us, and to comment "I hope I am as limber when I reach his age" I am indeed approaching that designation. At best I have 5-8 years before the band leader grabs my hand, leads me onto the floor and then asks the kids to "Give it up for gramps!"
The good news is I don't see too many wedding invites in my future
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