I prefer female bar tenders. They not only serve drinks and listen to idiotic ramblings, but they are, as you put it, decorative. And the more you drink, the more decorative they get.
Nice story with a sad ending. WOW, somebody who knows what isinglass is. I was going to mention that, but figured it would be too difficult to explain. 
Genes, man, genes. You gotta pick your ancestors carefully.
1.Several kids that had polio, am sad to say.
2.Fat kids during the Depression? Not likely. Actually there was one, who naturally was called Fatty.
3. I usually sleep nine hours a night, but I climb a local mountain every day, and have climbed four 14,000-foot ones in the High Sierra, and dozens of others, so I need a lot of rest. Back in my 60s and 70s, I ran every day, and ran 10 marathons. Why? You’ve got to be stupid.
All that was before I broke my tibia and fibula where they join the ankle bone last month. How? Don’t ask.That’s why I am spending more time on the Dope after a long lapse when did not hve the time.
- Since I got old (last year), I now take an occasional 30-minute nap in the afternoon.
Nobody asked, but will mention that my hobby used to be astronomy, but too lazy to get up at 2 AM, so now it is microscopy.
My house was built back in the '30s, and the original furnace was coal-burning. In fact, you can still see the area in the basement that had been the coal bin. And the steel door is still there, now partially covered by the asphalt driveway.
And I still have a couple dial phones, though they’re not connected. And we had a party line too, back in the '50s. And a milk chute.
I’d love to have a beer or 6 with you, if it wasn’t for that pesky 3,000 mile difference.
Lies! Lies and slander! See this:
Obviously, because you wanted to live to be 120!
My dad is older than the OP and he’s online nearly every day, as is my mom who’s turning 80 this week. They follow my activities on Facebook.
How about meeting half way? Maybe Kansas City, that is a wild, lively swinging town I hear.
This thread has amazing STICKY potential! Just sayin. . .
“Ask a knowledgeable old guy who’s been there.”
I wish all old people were as cool and open-minded as KlondieGeoff. I might show my mom this thread, who at 69 is always saying “I’m too old for <insert modern thing here>.”
Thanks for the kind words. You have a good user name. Perhaps you could get your mom to have the user name Living Long Is the Best Revenge.
The good thing about living to a ripe old age is that you outlive all your enemies. The sad part is that you also lose most of your friends.
If my wife would not be likely to object, I could date your mom and keep using the mantra Think Young, Think Young!
I still feel inside as though I am 35. Until, that is, I look in the mirror and startled by seeing that old fart.
It’s interesting to me that even though you have 20 years on me, some of our life experiences overlap. When I was a kid, we had party lines, and had to go through an operator to place a call. There was even a long-distance operator if you needed to call out of the territory (I grew up in Alaska). I remember when TV became common in homes: we had one very fuzzy channel on our console set in Juneau and used rabbit ears for reception.
I too remember a child in my school dying of polio. There was a collection taken up in the school to help with the cost of an iron lung, but he died anyway. Overweight kids were not common. We either walked or biked everywhere, and other than TV or a book, there wasn’t any reason to stay in the house, sitting on our asses. Nobody I knew was a fitness nut, but none of us was carrying any excess baggage.
My brother and sister are in their mid-70s and they are both online, as is my 75-year old cousin. Age is no reason not to use a computer. We deliver meals on wheels to the disabled elderly, many of whom are in their 80s and even 90s, and most of whom use a computer.
I have to say, in complete honesty, that I am very glad I found this thread, KlondikeGeoff, because your writing (posting?) style reminds me uncannily of my late grandfather. He was pretty nifty with the internet too, although he had a spotty record with stereo equipment.
That said, I have to know how you responded to punks when they first started hanging around, and how you’d respond to them now. For example, I wear my hair sorta long and dye it pink, and my fingernails are all painted black except for the middle ones, which are pink. Studded belts, loud music, the whole thing. How did/do you size up a kid like me?
Well, I see it as somebody trying to be different, but who ends up being pretty much the same as everybody else who does similar things. There isn’t any shock value anymore, unless it’s seeing a young guy in a suit. I will say, however, that I was extremely put off by job applicants who showed up with a face full of fishing tackle. If you want someone to be serious about you, you need to make sure you’re not distracting the interviewer from your skill set. Klondike’s world view may be different, of course.
There were kids who looked a lot like that in my middle school in Los Angeles 1977. Geoff wasn’t that much older then than I am now. I doubt if phased him much. You aren’t at all shocking, kid.
It is OK with me, it’s your life, and I don’t condemn anybody for trying for individuality. However, as has been pointed out, the shock value is gone. It never bothered me from the getgo.
Before the punk or goth look started, of course, there were the Hippies, and before that, the Beatniks. I was a pre-Beatnik hanging out in Venice West in CA, mostly in coffee shops, so who am I to judge?
It always amuses me when young folk strive so hard for individuality, and then go about in uniforms, so to speak.
True individuality is how you live your life, what your philosophy is and what your social life is, and not how you look. Nobody ever dictated and of these things to me, so I went my own way.I am not anti-social, more asocial. I hate mobs. To me, a mob is any group of more than six. 
Maybe you should read Walden.
Chefguy I think we batted posts back and forth before when the subject was Alaska. I still miss it, do you? I probably would be disappointed now at Fairbanks as a metropolis. It may not be wild and woolly any more, I fear.
I miss it in some respects: the images of the mountains and glaciers are burned into your brain. I miss the incredibly clean air. As a place to retire, not so much. There’s just not that much to keep me entertained there unless I wanted to spend a boatload of money on toys. Formal entertainment is very limited, as are restaurant selections and music venues. And then there are the never-ending winters (this year has been a corker). And lastly, the backward politics of the place are just so damned annoying. These things all contributed to our pulling the plug in 2009.
Fairbanks is still fairly wild and woolly. It’s geographic location on the edge of all that nothing contributes to a hunting and trapping lifestyle, and it’s pretty much the jump-off and supply point for people who want to live remotely. But it’s grown quite a bit since you were there. Oil money paid for some absurdly large roads that get little use. But you know Alaska: the outback is never far from your door, no matter where you live.
I really miss picking blueberries in the fall up on the Denali Highway, despite the backache that always came after. And of course I still have family there who I never get to see, and likely won’t again unless somebody dies. Pros weighed against cons: We’re happy to have lived there and happy to have left the place.
ETA: and why the hell does the word “woolly” have two Ls?
I’ve shovelled coal into a working steam locomotive and been in the cab of the "‘Sir Nigel Gresley’ on the North Yorks Moors railway.
I grew up in West L.A. Some of my earliest memories are of seeing real hippies on the Venice boardwalk in the mid-60’s. The south end was hippies and at the north end there were lots of old guys playing chess and speaking Yiddish. Venice was awesome before the Hollywood types showed up in the late 80s and gentrified the place.
The Kaiser? Hell, Klondike is too young to have fought the Führer. If he’s 84 now he didn’t turn 18 until WWII was over or nearly over. Assuming he’s American, he most likely couldn’t drink legally until 1949 or thereabouts. My understanding of the history of public drinking in this country is that women joined in during the Prohibition era. It was also around then that the old fashioned seatless bar went out around that time as well.
It seems to me this dear departed past which KG bemoans ended when he was five or six years old.