I was on the phone with a friend and she asked where I was going. I told her I was on my way to a funeral. “Another one?” she asked. “You need to get younger friends” she joked. Actually, she was partially right. Not that I needed new friends, but that many of my friends are older. I’ve always loved having friends of all ages, and now that I think about it, my friends probably span at least eight decades. It would be nine, but I don’t count teenagers as friends until they can have a conversation without looking at their phones.
I guess growing up in a large family and being active in a large church exposed me to people of all ages and I learned the value of the different generations. One important lesson was that sometimes a person young in years can be stuffy and dull, while a person considered elderly can be full of enthusiasm and new ideas. I’ve found the decade of our birth doesn’t matter much as long as we find that certain “click” friends have.
As a sophomore in college, I realized I was sick and tired of being around 19 and 20 year olds. Everyone pretty much thought alike, dressed alike and talked alike. “Grody to the max! Gag me with a spoon! (It was the 80’s). I missed seeing children in my neighborhood and older people in the grocery stores, since I shopped at the store near campus that was filled with Madonna and George Michael look-alikes. (I leaned more towards team Debbie Gibson).
In her wonderful book, “Giddy up Eunice,” Birmingham author Sophie Hudson . . .
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