it's time to get this age shit out of the way

My landlord called me from the road. He was on his way to the big city where he probably hoped to continue the action from the night before only this time with men.

We talked a little more about our night out. I didn't know that the spiky-haired-married woman had grabbed his ... I'll use a more genteel term than he did ... member. We also talked about the couple who had moved over to join us at our table, how as they talked about how they met, she put her hand up his shorts and he got obviously turned on. (I actually had to look away.) They didn't stay at the bar much longer.

I bring this up not only to show what a weekend it was - sex, drugs, and fireworks - but what a weekend it was for people our ages.

I've never mentioned my age on this blog. I figured that if bloggers are too young or too old, they are easily dismissed. The former because they haven't lived enough, the latter because who wants to hear from an doddering old fart.

Well, here goes. My age. Because as it turns out, I'm practically the baby in this new tribe of mine. And over the past few years, I've learned a lot about age - that it's a rather meaningless number.

When I left my Portland life I was almost 55. I am now 58. My lovers were mostly around 48 with one 40 year old thrown in, a near-miss with a 25 year old, and a smattering around my age. None older. My tribe at The Home of Dashed Hopes was made up of people mostly in their 50s.

Now this tribe. My landlord, the people who made the pot brownies, the woman with the spiky hair, my neighbor with the eggs, my writer/dancer friend, the man who fell in love with the Mexican woman, all these people (except the Mexican woman) are nearing 70. In a few months there will be an additional tenant here - once she returns from Guatemala - and she's in her 70's somewhere.

The people in my writing group range in age from the late 40's to somewhere around 70, a nearly 30-year span, and, frankly, we could all be around the same age. The only difference is that the men are all retired military and they like to write about that. A lot.

In the RVing world, I was surprised at how many people retired in their 50s (especially Canadians), so you've got that group. But there's also all those 80 year olds out there, cocktailing and sailing and fishing and bar-hopping right along with their younger counterparts, maybe more so. There's a few younger RVers - your sort of drop-outs, at least for a few months - and I wish there were more of them.

So I think this should be encouraging to people.
You're never too old to start life over.
You're never too old to get stoned.
You're never too old to get your nipple sucked in a bar, in public.