I Am So Uncool

It’s the first vestiges of moving on. They don’t ask for your ID when you get a senior’s movie ticket. The younger half start calling you sir. I have spoken before of the pretty girls smiling at you when you are running. No TTG, they are not flirting. Yes, they do think “Isn’t it cute that old fart can still run”.

It is being felt in so many other ways. I no longer worry about how I dress. I want to look presentable but the latest and greatest isn’t of much importance. My closet is full of golf shirts, sweaters and slacks that are pushing ten years or longer. Kathy complains. My girls hoot. Guess what? They still feel great.

One of the best things is acting crazy. I do what I want. If I feel like hollering about nothing in particular I go for it. Singing at the drop of a hat? You bet. My grandkids are still young enough where they don’t get embarrassed. They actually encourage me. I think there is a fine line between whacky and eccentric and I love walking it.

Cars? They are transportation and nothing more. The garage fits only one, so mine stays on the street. Leaf strewn and needing a wash, who cares? It has to get me to the club, Starbucks, and my grandkids and that is it. How many 66 year olds have two booster seats omnipresent on the rear bench?

I have threatened to get an old VW Microbus when my lease runs out. I thought maybe I would draw a huge peace symbol on the front panel. An air horn would chime out “Dixie” or “Here Comes The Bride”. I think we would call it the “Padgemobile.” My kids are running the other way.

Ah! My office. That is where it gets dicey. I don’t know if you can pick up ADD in later years but I could be part of a study. I have a big old leather chair. There are currently four books open and half read. There is the morning paper in various parts. A nest of tables holds my coffee, an old clock and half of what I ate for breakfast.
Life is good.

Kathy and I have lived in a variety of domiciles over 40 some odd years. Including investments we have had 29 real estate closings. A pompous ass, from New York no less, told me at a dinner in the mountains that I didn’t really understand the essence of resort real estate. He has one home and rents the rest of the time. Oh well.

Our houses have ranged from our first coming in at 1,100 square feet to a lovely 6,000 in Vail many years ago. We live in an old house built in 1895 that is 2,500 sf or so with a lot of nooks and crannies. It’s comfortable. It’s peaceful. It’s a grandparent’s house. And it is just right. Nothing fancy. I hope Kathy and I go out of here feet first.

I went down to the Wall Street protest in Denver yesterday. I will blog more at another point on that subject but it was capricious and fun. I talked to several of the protesters. People honked as they went by. I wasn’t particularly worried about who saw me or what I was doing. No agenda. Just information gathering. I can just do that now.

I am not one for kissing up or down to anyone. I am getting worse. Kathy and I are going to Rome. My priest buddy, Msgr. Jack Carroll, asked me if I wanted an audience with the Pope. I said no. Not being disrespectful. I just want an audience with God at the end. I just hope He is in a good mood.

Denver and Colorado are very accessible. By that I mean personalities and politicos are most places. The street. Church.(some do go). Health clubs. A local talk show hosts sees me at the gym. Just two dumb Irishmen shooting the breeze. Our US senator and former governor live down the street. We see them out walking sometimes.

Lastly is the club we belong to. Wonderful Donald Ross design. New club house. And one of the greatest collection of whack jobs since Animal House. Leave your ego at the door. Everyone is fair game. If you want two Margueritas and a cheeseburger while you are out on the course, just call the kitchen. My kind of place.

Well I have to go. I know it is very uncool to go on and on. I am supposed to keep it short and sweet. In abbreviated format. Well I know you will all find it very surprising but frankly Charlotte, I don’t give a damn. Loving life and living large.

As always
Ted The Great


Over the past few weeks I have been called a great guy. A jerk. A good person. A pompous ass. A snob. A slob. An a..hole. A true friend. Aloof. Caring. Padge. Dad. Honey. As I think about it they are probably all correct to some degree.

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