The Old Man

I have now been a person on this planet for 76 years, which seems to me an amazing amount of time.  That is, it seems a lot of time.  Because so much is packed into 76 years.  How many breaths?  How many sights?  How many moments of connection? How many words?  

An old geezer man shows up in my mind’s eye, maybe a farmer or someone who sits in front of a country grocery store with other geezers.  Definitely wearing a hat.  He gives me a look from under his hat and doesn’t need to say: “My version is different than yours.” 

If I can imagine being interested in the geezer’s version, which I am, perhaps someone will be interested in mine. 

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