In 2002 we ran away from Illinois where we were born and raised, and started a new life in SW Florida. This blog is about me (an eccentric old artist), ROM (my Real Old Man), Isabella (our neurotic Standard Poodle) and Emmy (our crazy snake killing Jack Russell Terrier). Oh- and the neighborhood old people. Life is good in Florida!

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Thursday, January 24, 2013

Pantyhose, Pink Lipstick and Old People or Gimme My Mail, You Ol' Biddy

I'm suffering from an over dose of old people. Daily I see a constant parade of them up and down the streets. So many of them!  There are 300 homes in the community and during the winter months they're all filled with seniors- often with family and friends who visit them frequently. They are much like the geckos- in cold weather they go into hiding but on balmy sunny days they come out in droves.  Since our temps have been unusually warm this winter they're out and about daily- biking, walking and driving their golf carts. And waving- sweet jezuzz, how they love to wave... over and over again. On their morning walk, on their way to the pool, then again on their way home from the pool, on their evening golf cart rides, and of course every time they pass by in their cars. I've made it a rule that each person gets one wave per day, after that they only get a nod from me. Come on, I can't constantly be stopping whatever I'm doing to wave like a frigging flag in the wind every few minutes. And if my neck happens to be hurting that day they may not even get a nod. I really appreciate the ones that have their earbuds in and are listening to their music- they avoid eye contact or any interaction, off in their own little worlds.

Even worse than the wavers are the ones that ambush you the minute you walk outside- the chatters. Mrs. Squabbler is a chatter. That woman never shuts up. By the way- the Squabblers didn't even make it to Christmas before they had a blow up. This time she's the one who left and went back home while he stayed here. I hear this time the blow up was over his jealousy. Keep in mind they're in their 80s... smh

But back to the chatters. I had one show up at my door the other day- in a cloud of cologne. What's with old people drenching themselves in perfume? Of course the dogs announced her arrival before she could even knock on the door which prompted her to start our conversation with telling me my dogs are loud.  Already she has a strike against her as it's obvious she isn't a dog person. She was all dressed up in a pant suit with pantyhose clad toes peeking out of her matching sandals. To set off her outfit she draped herself in oodles of brightly colored big clunky jewelry.  Her hair was perfectly coiffed, froze in place by a heavy layer of Aqua Net and her face was painted with full make-up- and lots of bright shimmery pink lipstick that had bleed up into her lip wrinkles. She was all dolled up and ready for a day of organized community activities. 

After I got the dogs quieted she told me she was here to give me a piece of mail that had been mistakenly delivered to her house. I thanked her for bringing it to me and told her if it happened again she could just place it back out in her mailbox for the mailman to pick up and redeliver to my house. She said she brought it herself because she wanted to tell me that I needed to talk to "my people" and inform them they must be sure to put the upper and lower cross bars on the capitol letter "I". I looked at the envelope and even without my reading glasses I could clearly see the "I" she was talking about. Somehow I refrained from asking her if she was freaking crazy, instead I thanked her and apologized for any inconvenience.  But she wasn't quite done with me... she brought up the dreaded subject of organized community activities.

I can't count the times I've been asked why I don't participate in the morning coffees and community activities. I haven't figured out how to give an honest answer without offending, so I try to be diplomatic and say I'm not comfortable in large groups of people. The truth is I'm just not ready for all this old people shit-  like the morning Sit and Be Fit group exercises, bingo, bridge games, bus trips, health screenings and potlucks.  I doubt I'll ever be ready for old people shit. As Peter Pan said- "I won't grow up! I won't grow up! I will never even try, I will never even try"...

Oh and get this- after she left and I opened the mail she brought me, I realized she had been holding it for over a month!  It was a birthday card that had been mailed on the 11th of December. I hope she gets a hole in the toe of her pantyhose, crazy old biddy.