"When dawn spreads its paintbrush on the plain, spilling purple... ," Songs of the Pioneers song from TV show "Wagon Train." Dawn on the mythic Santa Fe Trail, New Mexico, looking toward Raton from Cimarron. -- Clarkphoto. A curmudgeon's old-fashioned newspaper column, cross-breeding metaphors and journalism and art, for readers in 150 countries.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Conversation between Geezers at Toyota--Prologue

"You here waiting on your wife's car too?"
"Yes, getting it patched up."
Sometimes treasure falls into your lap when you least expect it, or in this case, in my ears. Sitting in Fowler Toyota at Norman this morning, for my Rav4's 30,000 mile physical, I was trying to read, sitting at a table near the free coffee.
I'd seen this gray haired old geezer earlier, wearing a black Veteran's style ball cap with little  pins on it and gold lettering. Neat gray mustache, glasses, flowery shirt, khaki shorts, white tennies, sitting in the corner, reading a book.
I shoulda known I was in for a treat when he walked by to get coffee. I always look at Veteran's caps, to see which war, which ship, things like that. His gold type read, "Institutional Survivor" across the crown. Underneath, it  read "Leave Me Alone."
Not being intrusive, I didn't even introduce myself. I wish now I had. Trying to read and mind my own business, I'm interrupted by another old geezer  in a t-shirt, green ball cap, green shorts, grey tennies, coming up and loudly starting a conversation with him--oblivious to the cap's message--about their wives' cars. From the knees down, you'd not tell the difference. White, slender untanned legs. White socks pulled up around their angles.  I don't really pay attention at first, annoyed like I am when people talk loudly on cell phones in public places, trying to impress other people with how important they are.
In fact, I picked up my computer, my bag and book, and moved a couple of tables away. To no avail. You could hear them all over the room.
Then it got interesting. Pretty soon, I was smiling to myself, and  trying to type everything they said, and moved back closer to where I could hear.
The treasure of a brighter day was dumped in my lap, listening to the back and forth banter of the two men as they got acquainted.
Twenty minutes later, after I'd sat and typed away, looking out the window so they wouldn't think I was eavesdropping, the buzzer vibrated, and my car was ready, and I reluctantly got up to leave. For a rare time in my life, I was sorry it didn't take longer so I could have enjoyed more of the conversation between geezers at Toyota.
Next--Comedy between Geezers at Toyota.

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