14 Days in the Land of Enchantment - Day 2

Day 2 - Antiques from 1975

This day finds me the the foothills of the Collegiate Peaks of southern Colorado doing what real mountain men do--antiquing, of course. Amidst the treasures and junk, I was astounded to discover what was displayed in one of the antique shops.

There beside a 1920 floral print and a small Roseville vase was a calendar from 1975. No, not 1875 or even 1905 but 1975. I realize that gray hairs are sprouting from all parts of my body these days, but come on. That was the year I graduated from high school! Since when did 1975 become an antique?

It seems like just yesterday when I donned my platform shoes (two-toned suede), silk body-hugging shirt (which was about as unimpressive then as it is today), and bell-bottomed gaberdine slacks before hitting first period.

Bennie and the Jets was still playing in my mind (not on my iPod, or my CD player or even on my cassette-tape player). We were still in 'Nam and a new show called, Saturday Night Live hit the airwaves (not cable).

I might as well be a grandparent and start paying attention to my fiber intake. Well, wait a minute, I am a grandpa (although many still remark that I'm much too young to have grandkids, and rightly so). And yes, I did order an oat bran muffin with breakfast today.

Those are just random coincidences; they don't reflect the vibrant specimen of man I am. I'm still young enough to use the word "specimen" without referring to that nasty kit the doctor gives you to take home then mail back pieces of your waste for analysis. I don't care how good of a retirement plan postal workers have, I wouldn't be handling that kind of mail.

I guess I inherited that from my dad (my outlook, not my gastrointestinal heritage). It was common for him even at the age of 93 to see an "older" woman in a restaurant and exclaim "look at old grandma over there."

I guess age is the space between your head, not the year. And certainly not what they choose to put in an antique store.

And that worked until I went to another store two doors down and saw the vintage collection of body-hugging silk shirts with long pointed collars displayed.

I wonder if they have my size?