Thursday, June 10, 2010

can of whoop...

My grandpop moved to a retirement community in Florida after my grandmom passed away. It’s one of those 55 and over places, complete with a pool, tennis courts – even a little doggie training park. I have to say, it’s much better than the place he used to go in LaBelle, Florida – 800 miles from NOWHERE. That place had a pool, too. And alligators.
I’ve always had this idea of what old is. You know, pinochle and spades, and occasionally an old Italian guy playing bocce ball at the beach. Old people meet in community centers and learn how to play on the computer and maybe send an email to the grandkids.
Old definitely didn’t include whooping ME in pickle ball. Or any kind of ball for that matter!
Pickle ball is like a hybrid of tennis and pingpong (shorter tennis court, bigger ping pong paddle). It’s super fun, even when you get schooled by a bunch of 70-somethings. And not only did they win, but they did it effortlessly. I was drenched in sweat and just a little out of breath and 80 year old Charlie skipped off to church after his big win.
I still don’t think that 40 year old ladies should be wearing junior-style clothes (read: halter tops and mini-skirts), but maybe there is more to life for old people than drinking tea and reading Reader’s Digest. I mean, there’s still the fake knees and hips, and probably a lot of medications and tea, but there can be more than that, I guess.
Before I would never have bet that I’d be beat by an oldie… and I feel a little bad about it. But still, next time I visit, I’m going to win the game …

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