Maturity
02/22/2009
A friend of mine used to say, “You are never too old to be immature.” I don’t know if he had me in mind when he said it, but there is a smidgen of truth in those words, especially if they are indeed a description of the happy soul writing these words.
The Nancy and I set yesterday out of the house around noon running errands like haircuts, a stop by the pharmacy and grocery store, with a little clothes shopping thrown in the mix. After our 2:30 hair appointments, mine takes a lot less than Nancy’s for some reason, we went down the street a couple of blocks and stopped at the Bulls and Bears for a late lunch and some early beers. I had the dish of the day for immature seniors, fried pickles and nachos smothered in cheese, jalapenos, tomatoes and guacamole. The Nancy, trying to be the more sensible, mature, middle-aged, weight-watching woman she typically is, had a burger, no bun, but then blew it with the addition of blue cheese sprinkles and French fries. She had turned to the dark side and her inner immaturity. We should have been ashamed, but then, immaturity overrules shame every time. At least that’s my story and I am going with it.
After lunch we stopped by the Outlet Mall in Hagerstown, Maryland and had a good time going into several stores and buying little. The Nancy bought some Mexican clothing at Chico’s, well, she bought some clothes, but I am not so sure of the style or where they were made. We walked around, held hands, watched kids and people and got a good case of being kids again just being silly and giggly. We stopped in Polo store, and discussed with another “L” Polo would be pollo, the Spanish word for chicken – yes, it was that kind of day.
The Nancy showed me a cloth jacket/shirt that sort of looked like corduroy made of canvas. She thought it would look nice on me, so I tried it on. I liked, too. It was hanging on a rack with a sign on the top of it yelling out, “75%” off. Wow, I thought for about half a second before I looked at the price tag! Original price of this tent jacket was $795.00…for canvas, no less. I am not a mature male, but I ain’t stupid enough to pay $795.00 for a jacket ever, let alone one Ralph Lauren can sell in an outlet store for $200.00 but probably won’t sell until it falls under $50.00. P.T. Barnum had it right, there is a sucker born every minute, but I am not one of them, at least not yesterday. Maybe I should rethink that after all, I am a Melaluca dealer (I throw that in just in case you need some Melaluca shit), but that is another story.
The point of all of this is to let you know I have converted The Nancy from a mature, sensible female to a middle-aged immature one: one that I love dearly, though. Case and point: yesterday while I picking up a prescription at the local Rite-Aid, from somewhere in the middle of the store, in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the state of West Virginia, I hear, “Hey Dave, do you need more Depends?”
Am that is all I have to say about that…