It's official. Hubby and I can't be single.

Many people would think Bill and I suffer from oldicus farticus a.k.a. old fart syndrome {OFS}. Olde Phart if you're a blue blood. We, of course, are in denial and proclaim that we like our life, and knowing what we like, we repeat the daily routine often. As in 7 days per week. Not be confused with a rut though.

Ours sons are both in their early 30s although the daddy version is pushing mid-30 and showing signs of OFS himself. Children do that a person. A friend of my sons and daughter-n-law is a woman I've known since she was in first grade and I was a perplexed room mother. Why was I perplexed? For the first school event of that year, I had items for girls and items for boys. The kids had their names on their desks. Dave got a boy item, Sara got a girl's. But what to do about Mo who had a unisex haircut, was wearing jeans, high tops, a tee shirt and vest that looked like it belonged to a 3 piece suit? Was this Moe or Monique? My own son was nowhere to help so I just held the tray out and let her pick for herself. She had to stop drumming her desk with her pencils, but she was polite and said thank you before resuming her drum solo.

A bunch of years later, Mo has a day job but at night, she is a drummer in a band and also performs with the Detroit Party Marching Band. She's in here...somewhere



and here in Quick Ritual

I haven't heard her perform in anything but public school productions and that has been over a decade ago. Dang kids keep getting older, don't they?

Quick Ritual was performing nearby recently, and our plans to go to the cottage and sleep in front of that TV on a Friday night had changed, so off we went to the bar where she was performing. The music was fine, but I'm not going to lie and say that hubby and I were grooving to their style. It just isn't our thing, or is that "it ain't our thang, man" ? Whatever. We love her so we went to support her. And to insure that when we're gone, she'll get a misty eye and say "remember that night they came to hear my band?"  *sniff*  *sniff*

Bill and I met in the parking lot of a bar. Forty years ago. Actually we were both in utero (we aren't 40 yet, that isn't possible!), it was our mothers who met. They shouldn't have been drinking while pregnant, but that could explain why we turned out as we did and why he is 5 months younger than me. His mother obviously was drinking sloe gin.

Ahem, where was I?

Oh yeah, about bars. We met in the parking lot of one a while back when we were single, carefree, and not only stayed up past 11:00 PM, we stayed OUT...out of the house! that late.

We weren't completely out of place last night, but our age group was the minority. We had a good time people watching and I made friends with a woman playing pool who I'm sure wouldn't recognize me today if she saw me in the grocery store even though she made a point to wave good-bye to me as she left. Loudly but happily.

When Bill and I were single all those years months ago, did we make conversation in bars while bands were playing? Did we actually hear what anyone said? Did we care? Now we try (to make conversation), don't hear (what anyone is saying), and are afraid to just nod in case we're agreeing to something we know nothing about!

We're definitely old married folks, but you know what? That suits us perfectly.