We Empty-Nesters (a euphemism for us elderly types) are meeting at our house in August. Though the program has evolved since its inception several years ago, having something of an activity or at least a theme should be considered. The problem is that not much is seemly for us anymore.
Our youngers (as opposed to elders) are vaguely amused, or even disgusted when we take to hollering, giggling, telling jokes, maybe singing vociferously and/or even getting into elevators it would seem. So what is there left to do? Bingo, perhaps, though the Mormons kind of think that that is a little too Catholic for them. We could have a speaker come and tell us at length about various things, but some of us snore too loudly to make it easy enough for some of our hearing aids to work efficiently. We considered writing our various ailments down then having participants match them to the proper sufferer. We decided, though, that perhaps the health of some individuals might not be up to the excitement.
We then thought that wearing our bathing suits might be in order for a hot August evening and that we could run through the hose and maybe even find a Slip-N-Slide that wasn't being used that evening. We were all aglow with eager anticipation until we remembered who we are and that what's good for the gosling might not be good for the geezers.
"Why's that", we ask?
"Because it was put up for a vote and the youngers decided that the elders had just better behave in a seemly manner and resist having fun of any sort."
"When was that vote taken," we ask?
"Just after Adam's children first started reaching puberty."
"Were we there," we wonder?
"No, but you consented to it when you came along."
"Rats", we complain. "But I guess we did it to ourselves."