Back in the day, I used to refer to some elderly people as...are you ready..."Porch People." Lovingly, though, very lovingly. In my head, I envisioned older grandmas in housedresses that snapped up the front. Dresses with snaps, in a happily colorful, small print...always worn with a slip underneath. Short sleeves...mandatory, for that tissue to be tucked into, between uses.
Grandpas, they shuffled around in fake leather slip-on slippers...sometimes, with suspenders holding up their pants. Their pants...usually a dark navy blue, cotton-blend pant, paired with one of those sleeveless ribbed undershirts, that kind of resemble tank-tops. Over the undershirt...those suspenders I was talking about.
Grandmas walked about, doing this, doing that, hanging clothes on the clothesline, frying chicken for dinner...you know. Grandpa...he sat on the front porch reading the latest issue of Reader's Digest, while listening to that day's baseball game, on the radio. The radio? Sitting next to his wooden rocker, on a TV tray.
Their lives were easy, in my mind. Days were casual, unrushed; dinner could be at the table, or on a TV tray, in front of the evening news. Sometimes, the song could be heard, promoting Hamm's..."From the land of sky blue waters." We can all sing that song, can't we, friends?
Sounds like I didn't overthink anything, back then, but (really), I've always kind of over-thought everything. NOW, I'm in that age group...but NEVER, have I worn a housedress with snaps, and NEVER, has my husband worn suspenders to hold up his pants.
Categories...they vary. They're easy...they're free, and we fit people into whichever one we want..no matter how wrong we might be...and no one even has to know. We all go there at some point...we just do. And so it goes.
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