I know it is a scary site so if you see us, run for your life.
I can see it now. It is a sunny hot and balmy afternoon, feelings are on edge and all of a sudden there comes the squeak of hearing aids over-modulating and the steady clack-clack-clack of our tricked out walkers as they crash against the heathen sidewalk.
I pull off my AARP approved helmet engage my kickstand while others fall suit. It can be quite intimidating as the smell of tosterone and Hai Karate aftershave fills the promenade. The Discovery Channel is falling us around, capturing our exploits and with dramatic elan show us entering our coffee klatch and winking at the young girls. (Sixty year olds).
Of course the big event is going to be when we get in our cars at rush time and drive 20mph in the fast lane while listening to sound bites of the old Lawrence Welk Show. We will be in a Geritol-induced coma listening to the honks and remonstrations of busy young people. Our old ladies (literally) will be wearing their antique jewelry and swinging their pearls flirtatiously.
But on a more serious note, we are civc-minded rebels with a cause. We man our walkers from our golf carts, flashing gang signs and cooing sweetly at our female hang-arounds. You can tell how mean we are by the tats, like the one with the knitting needles or the EIB Network. However on that day we are all business, as we have our Walkers Across America Fund Drive for better sidewalks and Senior Discounts. We are so vicious that we go to the Full Throttle Saloon and we scare the Bikie Gangs.
Other distractions for us included collecting at a friend’s house and cajoling the parents and children as they come home from school. “Mommy, they are scary, when are the police going to do something about it?” The mom say the cops are chicken and that we are no one to trifle with. We have names like Lawrence, Myrtle and Gertrude so we don’t even need gang names. That is scary enough right there.
In our clubhouse we have pictures of Bad Granpa, Granny of the Beverly Hillbillies and Festus of Gunsmoke. We have a saying, ‘Torn clothing Needs Stitches’. We like to let our children and grandchildren pay for our hip replacements at 90 and we watch our windows to see young people breaking the rules of our park and turning them into the community’s park management.
If you go to our website. www.bluehairs.com you will see our fallen bros and bro-ettes and please do not ask how you can join, just find one of us and ask. We would have been on the Sons of Anarchy but that would have only led to a rumble and we try to keep a low profile just in case the Popo spots one of us.
So the next time you think about coming up on one of us, just remember if we are not wearing our patches and rockers you might not know who we really are. Suffice it to say, we have nothing to lose except our driver’s license and free parking signs.
RIP George Washington and watch out for Reverse Mortgages and Clappers!!
Floyd, Times Are Changin 