For the past 10 years I have been a member of a luncheon group called the
Irregulars.There are about 12 of us in the group and I am at 78 one of the
youngest.We meet every second Thursday at Mary’s Blue Moon Cafe a popular diner
where the waitresses call us ‘boys ‘or love ‘and know our names.Our oldest at
96 was an architect.He is often driven by our next oldest a 93 year old retired
electrical engineer.We have amongst our members a former diplomat,a
businessman,a California winery owner,a former Deputy Minister,an IT expert ,a
sea captain still working at 82 and other sundry occupations.
I delight in our conversations that cover the waterfront.Alan the architect
describes being given a pitchfork as a school boy and being sent to the coast
to repel’ Jerry’.Owen the engineer instructed how contracts were rigged around
the world as this was a normal adjunct of business.The diplomat described
Lavorov as a clever devious character saying it was necessary to count your
fingers after he shook your hand.This Thursday Peter the captain begged off
saying he was bobbing about in force 7 gales off Greenland.He was hauling a
load of the richest iron ore in the world from Baffin Island to Rotterdam.
I have bathed in the collective wisdom of this group and even occasionally
offered my own opinions even though one of them said ‘I still have cradle marks
on my bum.’
What prompted me to write about this is the importance of fostering discourse
in our lives.Covid has caused us to turn inwards and the isolation is slow to
dissipate.The excellent discourse encouraged by Wynn has helped in lifting that
feeling of isolation.If someone had suggested I would enjoy lunch with a bunch
of octogenarians and nonogireans I would have expressed misgivings.I would have
missed collective wisdom and life experiences that have taught me so much.For
most of the 40 years I ranched near Okotoks I met at 5:30 AM for coffee with
my farm neighbours.The local barber had all the gossip,the fuel truck driver
knew who was buying and selling but mostly it kept my finger on the pulse of
my community.
The Irregulars keep my fingers on the pulse of the world.As we age we tend to
withdraw.Resist that impulse .Get out there and keep yakking.You and the world
will be better for it.
Sent from my iPad
