As is always said, old age is not good, but it is better than the other option. What made me think of this is my age. I’m getting old enough where I suppose I would be referred to as elderly. I used to think elderly was around 50, then I thought 60, then 70….Now I’m figuring it is in the early hundreds.
I remember when Lynn turned 50. We were on the way to a rodeo and maybe had a cold beer. I toasted his birthday and Lynn said, “Just like a spare tire that’s never been out of the trunk!” I didn’t believe him. That tire had a lot of wear and tear on it. And he had left tracks to prove it. But I thought he was elderly.
Now some of you other elderly people can attest to the fact that the memory begins to falter. Names are harder to remember. For me, dates have always been tough. Some people can remember the snowstorm in 1975 or the drought in 1961. They can remember birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmas. I often forget what I had for supper last night.
We were having coffee with some friends last week. You know how it is. The men were sitting in one group and the wives were off at another table planning their gardens and talking of their grandkids.
Being cattlemen, we often talk of weather, cows, and cow stuff. Steaks are cow stuff.
This one old boy began telling us that he and his wife had gone out to supper and he had been served the best ribeye he had ever eaten. It was tender, flavorful, and the service was fantastic.
Now this got us all interested. There is nothing better in life than a great ribeye and a baked potato. Well, maybe some things.
When he was questioned about which restaurant they had dined in, he hit a wall. A blank spot. Try as he might, he couldn’t figure out the name of the restaurant.
By now, we were really into this story. We wanted to try this fabulous restaurant out. I mean we have birthdays, anniversaries, and other occasions coming up to celebrate.
So we kept after him. Finally, he asked, “What’s the name of that pretty flower?”
“No,” he said. “That one that you buy by the dozen and it smells good.”
“Rose,” I asked?
“That’s it,” he exclaimed! “Rose, what was the name of that restaurant we ate at last week?”