But being a trooper, I got dressed and went for Friday breakfast with the neighbors. They were all there and we had another nice get together. Everyone gets their own checks and you know how I feel about it.
You don't, ok here's my thoughts. I'll pay for what I ate and you pay for what you eat.
Simple isn't it. I hate when we all get one bill and share equally in paying.
But sometimes, folks like to drink before, during and after dessert. Then want to pay the same as those that didn't. NOT ME. BE COURTEOUS. PAY FOR YOUR OWN CHECK OR ELSE THROW IN EXTRA MONEY, enough to cover your enjoyments.
I was stuffed when we left The Sunrise Grill and drove home. I picked up those heavy bag gloves I recently bought and got dressed. Shorts and an Orange t-shirt to put me into the mood to do a little exercise at the local park.
This time when I hit the heavy bag, I could hear it moan...ok, maybe it was me. But my punches seemed to make the bag swing.
After a few minutes of that I moved to the basketball floor where some super seniors were playing b-ball.
I went back to my routine of running back and forth dribbling the ball. When I crossed the floor I would throw the ball against the wall and catch it on the rebound.
The first few times, I missed the wall. Then missed catching it on the rebound. But after a few trips things improved so much I took some shots at the basket.
The same thing occurred. I missed the basket. I couldn't understand why. So, I took out my camera, (you knew I had it with me) and photoed my form.
Oh My God, what happened to the spring in my legs. And lifting that right leg. I regressed from my shooting style of the 70's into that of Bob Cousy from the 50's.
What happened to that 6 inch vertical leap I had. Look, my left foot is on the floor. Never leaving. Is it true---OLD WHITE MEN CAN'T JUMP...
After many breaks for rest, I started to make some baskets. But chasing down the missed shots tired me out.
During my timeouts and the seniors timeouts I would go over and join in conversation. Perry was asking about if we knew any mobsters.
Griffin was talking about the recent playoffs.
It was like morning coffee at work. Men just being men. Talking sports and tough guys. Wow, that must be why I miss going to work everyday. The conversations with the boys.
So, I left after 1 1/2 hrs. When I got home the boys were cleaning the pool. All the scum on the bottom. Makes me visualize what they mean when they call people pond scum.
It was tiring watching them, so I took a nap.
Thank you Lord, Life is Great.
c'ya
jim
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