Small boys eventually grow up

Today we had a visit from an old friend who lived next door to me back in our mutual home city of Indianapolis. We hung out together in the neighborhood and did the usual stupid things boys did. Eventually he moved away, and I finished high school and attempted college. If I recall, both of us were not the greatest scholars in school, but we both managed to graduate. As it turned out, we lost touch with each other for periods of time, during which we both served in the Air Force, unbeknownst to each other. I got married, he got married, we both had a son and a daughter (although in reverse order for him), and eventually we both ended up living in Florida. I'm retired and drawing social security, he's still working to pay my social security. Thanks, buddy!

John (his name also) and his wife live two hours north (although his driving tends to shorten that time frame) in Wesley Chapel, and today with their 19 year old son visiting friends in Seattle, and their married daughter in Hawaii, we had a chance to meet up and do lunch on the island. The picture of the two of us shows graceful aging - both still have our own hair, and our wives insist both of us are going deaf. It's called "marriage deafness - or selective hearing". Say something really offensive to a male, and we'll hear it.

It's really nice to have these mini-reunions from time to time, to talk about kids, politics (a safe topic, we're both conservatives), hopes for our children, etc. Both are daughters are married, both our sons are single. His daughter is a combat photographer in the Air Force, mine is a combat manager in a bank branch (so far neither have been shot at......yet). We might beat him to having grandkids however, as our daughter is expecting after Thanksgiving. Once that happens, we'll probably get together again and wives will look at baby pictures, and we'll once again voice our disappointment in our current government. The more things change, the more they stay the same - except with each passing year we get better at NOT hearing what our wives think we should be doing instead.

Oh yes, Ripley (whose contract calls for frequent mention in my blog) was a good boy and continued his recovery from his recent back surgery. He has found a new place to rest, under the dining room table.