PERHAPS for most of us, the motley crew of High School Batch 71, it may have already become quite common to meet and have brekkie every first Friday.
Kudos to the guys who came up with the idea. But truth be told, for those outside this circle of old classmates, seeing the same faces since high school all over again up till now elicits from them not only a mere gasp but also a sense of both wonderment and silent admiration as well.
“What loyalty and endurance,” my younger friend Dada once observed. It’s almost like being married to the same person for seventy years and not wavering a bit, she teased. (but I’m not going there).
However, nowadays it’s not surprising anymore, really. One just has to go hit the shopping malls and, as sure as the 5 o’clock traffic, in every coffee shop corner, old men in congregation appear as common and ordinary as the shop displays.
At this, I’m reminded of a saying I first heard in high school. Birds of the same feather flock together. I guess that will stand the test of time. Beyond all of us huddled in there with our coffee.
But one wonders, what do we, old fogey guys, really fuss about? A smart aleck of a nephew actually summed it up long ago when the query was brought up. “Sharo, seventy years of existence, and one still looks for topics to talk about!”
But seriously, I was then tempted to say it’s not that simple. On a related topic, I recall telling a mate once about how, for me, having a gig every night wasn’t boring.
I said I could sing the same song each night, and I guarantee it will be different each time. What do old men talk about? Travel beyond the words uttered at the table. Often, I listen to what’s not being said. Quite an earful.
Ergo, we might run over and discuss the same high school joke or anecdote every time we meet, but the context, emotion, and circumstances involved will vary each time. But to the outsider…
And so. There’s a ritual of sorts that concerns one to be a part of everything that’s happening in the room. It likewise entails letting the mind hover above the room and letting the Zen of that in. All is well. I’m living in the moment. Whatever else is waiting outside, take a number.
