The Plus-55 Club of Rye was a barrel of laughs plus. Almost didn’t make it. Called Jane, the organizer, at 10:30 a.m. Said, “I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight, Jane.” She said, “I hope not. Since the meeting’s at noontime.”
Oops. Sometimes I write things, like times, on my calendar, but fail to read them carefully. Luckily, I made it to Rye in time to tell stories after lunch.
What a crew. Much heckling, which I always enjoy. I got Bob Carpenter, chief heckler, with my old Yankee hug trick. Stand still, cross arms, nod. Here we are demonstrating.
We
got talking about Yankees and roots and how some of us stay in one
place generation after generation, and others move around. “Who here
is a native of Rye?” I asked. Two ladies raised their hands. One was
Irene. Irene’s friend said, “Put your hand down, Irene, you’re not a
native.”
Irene shot back, “How old do you have to be to be a native?”
She’s a pistol!
Here’s part of the gang at Plus-55. They take bus trips or have special activities just about every month. Seems to me they are folks who love to have fun.
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