Fitty Two

Today marks the date I have been on this planet, at least in my current incarnation, for 52 years. It's great to be here! I see so much decay and decrepidation among the elderly -- I always say there's no way I want to be here past 80. And then, last night, I was treated to the company of an outlier. Wifey and I hosted our homeowner's association executive committee -- at a meeting requested by our Village mayor, Cindy Lerner. Cindy wants our support in asking the US Congress to sell 2 acres of a huge agricultural research station just south of Pinecrest to the County, to build a new fire rescue station. It turns out that if Wifey stabs me and I lay bleeding to death, it will take a minimum of 9 minutes for the closest paramedics to reach our part of Pinecrest. With the new station, I might have a chance at NOT exsanguinating... Anyway, we're all for it -- especially the women, who figure the more hot bodied firemen around, the better --but the star of the evening was our neighbor Bobbe. Bobbe is, I'm pretty sure, 93, and the original resident of our 'hood. Her late husband platted our development, as Bobbe reminded us, 50 years ago this year. Bobbe could pass for 70, lives alone in the house she and her husband built, and is sharper than the proverbial tack. She regaled us with tales of history, as well as the nagging neighbor of her reals estate business: the strip club Stir Crazy. She had us in laughs, telling us about the time a federal car parked in her lot, and she wanted to close the gates, so she walked on over and told the owner that the patron better move his vehicle, lest it spend the night in Bobbe's lot. When the embarrassed young man came out, Bobbe said, in her lovely Texas drawl, "Now how would your mother feel about her son, a federal agent, attending such an establishment!?" She also still drives -- and is a habitual speeder. She has a place in the Keys, and gets stopped on the Turnpike. She has never received a ticket -- charming and flirting her way out of all of them. She winked at the ladies, and said "Oh, you know men -- make them think you're helpless, and you get whatever you want out of them." The VERY modern and feminist Mayor Lerner laughed at that so hard she bent over. Somehow I can't see her using feminine guile too much... Bobbe downed 2 LARGE glasses of white wine, and was driven home the 2 blocks by Ben and Gloria, our fine neighbors. If you can make it to your 90s like Bobbe, long life is, I guess, tolerable. Meanwhile, I already got a birthday greeting from D2 in Spain, and tonight plan on going to dinner with D1, D2's boyfriend Jonathan, Wifey, and Paul and his fiancee, Patricia. Ah, the word fiancee. I remember back nearly 30 years ago, I was one, but without the extra e. So as I take stock, now 2 years past the half century mark -- it's a pretty damn great time. This is the first year I'm an orphan, but as Rabbi Yossi said the other day, if the first time you're saying kaddish is when you're in your 50s, you're very lucky. He's right. I plan to just keep on keepin' on --and taking each sday as it comes. In other words -- living in cliches. Is there any other way?