I used to say the thing I liked about Austin was that there were so many old people that it made me feel young.

Thursday, October 21, 1999

I used to say the thing I liked about Austin was that there were so many old people that it made me feel young.

Things changed.

Those advertisements for AARP started coming in the mail.

I couldn’t climb the big rock at the Nature Center with my grandchildren anymore.

The girls at the movie theater asked me if I wanted the senior citizen discount.

Kaye Gerber and Cheryl Corey started recruiting me for their respective banks senior citizen clubs.

The message was sinking in.

Then, Iris Hansen invited me to join the Mower County Senior Citizens Center’s organization.

That really hurt.

But the kicker came when my son started calling me "Old Double Nickel," when I reached a certain birthday.

Why couldn’t have gone along with the lie I was telling myself?

I still cringe at being labeled an "active senior." What does that mean anyway? And, if you’re not an active senior are you inactive and, therefore, comatose or even dead?

Maybe, it takes some adults longer to reach a mental maturity that you ain’t what you used to be, so accept it, deal with it and get on with life. Just stay in the slow lane.

I was reminded of real and imagined generation gaps Wednesday when I visited Brownsdale.

It was the 75th anniversary of the Brownsdale Study Club and I was a guest at their diamond jubilee celebration.

I could have closed my eyes and imagined myself at any setting with people of any age so sparkling was the conversation, so real was the laughter.

Anne Waldman invited me. Mrs. Waldman is the organization’s newest member and she had to be invited to join and then accepted by the other members.

The meal was sumptuous. I would have gladly forfeited my time as the guest speaker for another helping of everything.

Laura Akkerman, president, conducted business and then introduced Mrs. Waldman.

She was in charge of entertainment and Mrs. Waldman promptly grabbed a glass and used it as a microphone for a sing-a-long of "Shine On Harvest Moon." Yes, I sang along.

Ellen Anderson was a special guest. She is 90 years old and belonged to the Brownsdale Study Club for 40 years before relinquishing her membership because of difficulties getting to the meetings.

Mrs. Anderson is a treasure. She was in the Women’s Air Corps, during World War II and stationed in London and later Denmark. What did she do? She worked for the American intelligence service and so secret was her work that she still can’t talk about it.

When it was my turn to speak, I told the club members about newspapering and how it is changing again, but, I’m not sure, for the better.

Of course, I told them some "war stories" about misadventures in newspapering.

The best part was the question-and-answer session and the opportunity I had to listen to their opinions.

When I left, they sent me home with a basket of food and I was embarrassed.

Heck …. I had a home-cooked meal to brag about, learned something new, met some interesting people and could say I had a good time. I was in their debt. They were not in mine.

I take the back roads to Brownsdale, like I do to the other great small towns I visit in Mower County. I can see Roger Slindee’s place in the distance, remember visiting Brian Johnson’s for the Christmas Alive show last year, wonder when John Jindra is going to take care of that tree blown over by the summer windstorm of 1998, remind myself to visit Steve and Bonnie Williams Honey Tree Farm sometime, marvel at Lola Prigge’s rocket memorial, admire Judy Pike’s new home and remember the day I visited Marvin "Bud" Foster and his boys when they were building it and had a pretty good time on a cold winter’s day and then I reach the city limits and it starts all over again.

There’s Our Savior’s Lutheran Church and I remember when they got their pipe organ and any direction I go, I see a place that reminds me of a story someone shared with me.

It happens everywhere I go. Places, memories, stories.

When a journalist of any kind doesn’t take time to remember the stories done, he gives up something.

The best story for any reporter should always be the next one.

Recalling the people who shared their thoughts for stories passed is a strength of the heart reporters should hold on to.

Thank you, Brownsdale Study Club, for reminding me of that.