The Good Ole Days

The Good Ole Days

Haa, saints preserve the wickedly fortunate, we who are blessed with girlfriends the like of ruwth . Oh, woe to you, who are now snickering, trying to contain those silly school girl giggles. Yes, ruwth is a female, but more importantly my friend. This morning she sent me an email containing a quoted notebook entry I sent to Elycia Lee ☮ } in her post back in January, "Note: First day of work today. Rather exhausted. My col...". In which our still newlywed friend was expounding on the good looks and smart dress of her new boss.

Ms. Ruwth after reading my posting suggested that I should make my comment a more permanent item in my portfolio. It is nice to know that I still have the knack to tickle a girl’s fancy, even if my once handsome physique as faded from the summer’s sun. Or is it better described as moldy from the oppressive humidity of the swamps? Nonetheless, it is fun for a writer, however, swollen, (or is that bloated,) to know that he is still dandy enough to have a gal allow him to touch her. (emotionally and always metaphorically… wow, that’s a lot of “Ly,” but in this case, the “L” “Ys” stands for “Love you too.”)

So, the wiser of us here on WdC have learned to pay heed to the voice of “Ruwth” whose very name means Friendship. With that explanation, I post this item as a renewed—old musing, in my portfolio. I pray you might forgive my rehashing of words gone bye.

Those who know me, are fully aware of my propensity to talk a good line, and sometimes be a bigger tease than a seventh-grade school girl. I guess I get the trait from my late father who covered his faults with humor and wit.

So, from the inspiration of a woman who wisdom reigns from the time of her namesake. I have made this item for all to see. If you will forgive any missteps contained within as mine and not notice any of the mud on my friend’s kirtle. I assure you it has rubbed off me. (oh…shame upon you who would think I imply we were too chummy, the stains happened when she sat beside, on the log, to comfort me.)

Ahh... to be young again. Those were the days... Not!

Back in the seventies, I was considered by many a young gal to be good looking, I had a fun, outgoing, but mostly respectful demeanor. I drove brand new cars and wore custom-tailored Navy uniforms. My wallet always had money in it, which I freely spent on wine, women, and song. I never wanted for a date, most weekends, I had two or more lined up. Yet, for all my success in the Navy, the world at large and in the bedrooms around the world, I was missing something, I was never satisfied, I felt empty and unfulfilled.

Then, one day, my grandfather died, and at a private gathering after his funeral, a young girl (she had just turned 18) saw me sulking, slumped over in my chair as the family and friends sat beside a campfire commiserating.

She moved in behind me and began massaging my neck. I thought it was my mother, so being a smart-ass, I said. “Thanks, Mom, I'll give you 30-minutes to stop that."

I nearly fell out of my chair when the unidentified female voice replied. "I have been called lots of things, but never Mother." I turned and was utterly smitten. I knew as my grandfather had known the moment he met my grandmother. This was the woman I was going to marry.

Now, almost 38 years later and I still haven't seen a woman that can hold my attention or replace her in my desires. If you have the right partner, it doesn't matter how good looking the boys or girls at the office look or what they wear.

In fact, my wife likes the sexy clothes on the young gals, because when she catches me looking, she has learned full well how to turn my guilt to her advantage.

I must add an Author's note:
As I often do, in an attempt to garner brownie points.. I showed this to my wife, Sherry:

She said, "Shame on you form letting these women think you sweeter than sugar plum pie."
"Whatever do you mean dearest?"
"Remember I sleep next to you, old fool, and know it ain't roses you sometimes let loose under the blankets."

Oh, if only I wasn't an honest man and would not feel guilty if I left out her admonishment.