Make a note. It is official. We have failed.
On New Year's Day I gave a call early in the evening to Grandpa and Grandma to wish them well for the new year. I had avoided making one of those midnight phone calls the night before, figuring they might have turned in early.
When they answered the phone--both of them, as they frequently do, which is somewhat disarming, the two hellos, like a delay--their voices sounded fatigued. I pumped up the enthusiasm and tossed out a Happy New Year, hoping they'd perk up.
"What did you do last night?," I enquired with some reluctance.
"We were at a New Year's party at some country club in Niles," replied Grandpa. "The Ampol Aires played. Good food, you know, open bar, good music. Then, when that party ended, we headed over to the Stardust, they were having another band, so we went over there and stayed there 'till, I don't know, 3:30 or 4, and hell, we didn't get home and get to bed 'till, I dunno, around 5. It was tough for Grandma, ha-ha, she can't handle it so good anymore."
"Ah, it was the food. The food didn't agree with me, I ate too much," chimed in Grandma. "So I had to take it easy today, that's all. What did you guys do?"
My turn.
"Ummm...we went out for dinner...around 6:30...in town...and, ummm, we, uh, that was about it."
The picture above is the Ampol Aires, the entertainment of the early portion of Grandma and Grandpa's evening. The picture is from 1965. While most--not all--of the band members have changed over the years, they are still playing, and Grandma and Grandpa are still out there partying.
And we are not.
We have been passed on the party scale by Grandma and Grandpa and the Ampol Aires and an army of polka dancing senior citizens who certainly don't want to hear anything about aging gracefully.
That is all.
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