“Another clinic visit, another pill,” Morrie said, laughing ruefully. “Remember when our conversations were about girls and not about all our health issues?
Charlie took a pull on his beer, taking in the “old timers” seated around the table. They’d been coming to this bar every Saturday night for the last forty years. When had they taken on that moniker? He couldn’t remember.
“Yeah,” he said, “And then it was our jobs, and then our marriages and kids.”
Ralph, who had been staring at the last of the amber liquid in his glass, threw it back, then put in, “And then our divorces.”
“Speak for yourself, “Andy answered. “I’ve been…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ralph interrupted, “happily married for forty-six years. We know.”
“Seriously, though,” Morrie said, “we could make a map of our lives, just following where our conversations have gone year by year. They really tell the story of us.”
Ralph got that wise-cracking grin on his face—the one that meant he was going to say something stupid that he thought was witty. Sure enough, he said, “Why don’tcha write a book about it?”
Morrie grinned back at him, taking the cue he’d known Ralph would inadvertently provide. “I did, and a publisher just picked it up. Every one of you jerks are going to buy it.”
“Yeah?” Ralph asked. “And why would we spend money on something you wrote?
“Because,” Morrie said, serious now, “it’s the story of us.”
Charlie signaled the barkeep for another round. When the beer arrived, he raised his glass. “To Morrie, who always thought more deeply than the rest of us. I’m going to read that damned book, if only to see what he really thinks of me.”
Morrie raised his own glass. “To my putzy pals, the “old timers.” He gave Charlie the stink eye, adding, “And don’t toast me like I’m dead. That new heart pill is going to add years to my life.”
Andy sighed. “I have an appointment tomorrow for my gout. Sure hope the doc will have something new for it. It’s killing me.”
And just like that, it was back to business as usual.
I was thinking the other day about my brother David and a comment he made a few years ago to me. He said something about our topics of conversation having become more about our various medical conditions. Why that came to me, I don’t know. But it started this story percolating.
I like the idea of these men having been friends throughout their lives and the camaraderie and grousing that goes on among them. I also enjoyed bringing the story full circle, coming back to the usual topics.
How about you? What phase of life are you in and what types of conversations do you have with your contemporaries?
I did have an overnight party of my eclectic women friends for my 75th birthday and a HS friend who was also turning 75. All 9 were amazed when meeting for the first time how much they have in common. So much that a woman who will be 65 and one who will be 80 who had never met are thinking of planning another birthday overnight in March.
Nice story ❤️ How wonderful to think of them being together through all of their changes. 😊