Old Geezers Rule

An old geezer is a man who's face shows his age and his struggles through life. His smile and frown are both the same with a variation of a snicker. The eyes are eerie piercing dots, that see through lies and deceits.

His skin is wrinkled and hard, with tiny scars to show great challenges of the past.

The weathered dusty gray hair on his head, in his ears, brows and nose, appear to be strings of wire or brush bristles. He doesn't shave everyday now, just when he thinks he needs to. His cloud gray whiskers grow slower now, showing different drab color shades in low lighting.

The old geezer enjoys staring at objects for long periods of time, with everyone guessing what he may be thinking, but never knowing. His eyes will follow a handsome woman, or a child with great pleasure.

He gestures with his hands more now. moving them up and down with thoughts in his inner conversations to himself. He peers into the sky more, maybe trying to guess the weather pattern, looking toward his future home, or just searching the clouds for answers.

One would think he was lonely, as he just sits still in the porch chair with his weathered hands folded. But, I'm sure he is not alone, with his past friends and relatives lodged so deeply in his mind. He may have long talks with them and even take a quick trip with them. A trip to a fishing lake somewhere in Canada, or a card game down at the local pub. His head is full of such things.

He likes the taste of strong tea, with a biscuit topped with a small spread of peanut butter. Enjoys the morning smells of bacon, eggs and coffee. Knowing he is not to have either because of his faulty heart and gall bladder. Even the taste of bitter Canadian beer will almost bring a smile to his hardened lips and he does dip into the drink once in awhile in the summer. It relieves the dull back pain from tiny black kidney stones hidden in a pocket somewhere inside of him.

He still likes hunting and fishing, but the effort of the work involved is just not worth it. All of his fishing friends have passed on and he wouldn't want to go alone. His arthritic hands could not hold a fishing rod or a gun for very long. Still he keeps his tackle and guns, just in case he may go fishing and hunting someday. One never knows.

So, he sits in his chair waiting for something or someone to come along to peak his interest. Just being an old geezer is not so bad, unless he loses sight in his good eye. Then he will tackle that problem when it arises.

"I smell bacon, Is that old coot across the street frying bacon again?" "Damn old people, don't they know I'm over here sniffing that awful stuff."

Old Geezers forever