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By Tom Boggs

I reckon I pretty well qualify as a pure-bred Ol’ Geezer, having a recollection of World War II, and the twists and turns of the world since the 1940s.

Some real Geezers might still reach for the brim of their hat when they meet a lady on the street, except for the fact that the brimmed hats have mostly gone on away from here, ‘cepting for cowboy hats.

No matter what your age, you got some geezerism in you if you swell up in the chest, and maybe get misty eyed when you hear a band strike up that Star Spangled Banner, or if you find yourself being courtly to womenfolk, and making sure they walk on the inside of the road or sidewalk.

If you get embarrassed when you hear some fellow using bad language in front of women or children….well, that’s what geezers do. 

Very few of y’all will recall a fellow by the name of Wick Fox. When my family used to travel to Selma to see kin folks, we’d pass over the railroad track over about Consul, and go by an old store on the right. Daddy would remark, “Well, there sits Wick.” I never asked questions. I just always knew Wick would be there, waving at cars. I figured he was some old Geezer, with no place to go.  I found out years later from Jimmy Watson that when Wick died, he left a heap of saved up money and stuff. You never know. 

When I think of old folks in my youth, I conjure up Dr. Guy Dunning walking the streets, and reaching down to wind up us chullen in the belly button. Seems like my Great Aunt Hazel Cooper was old all my life, along with Great Uncle Sam Jackson in Demopolis. 

Hey, never will forget how upset I was when Daddy got his first pair of glasses. I just figured my daddy was too young and strong to wear glasses on the end of his nose. 

Wish I coulder known my ma when she was older than fifty-four. Forever young is one way to look at that, I reckon. Although young, I chuckle to think about how Ma drove that old Buick Daddy bought her, sitting down real low, and riding around with her first grandson, Tadd, standing by her, with nonexistent seat belts. He’d be twirling Ma’s hair, and without warning would exclaim, “Turn here, DranMa!” No slowing down, no signal, but for sure, a turn. Folks in town knew to especially watch out for that Buick if the grandboy was standing next to the driver. 

Another piece of information for you: No matter what all the TV and docs tell you. If it couldn’t be fired in bacon grease or pure lard, it just plain out old everyday weren’t worth the trouble of cooking in the first place…let alone eating. 

A fellow or matronly lady might give away their age, (as well as where they’re from, if they smile at you, and remark, “Have a cup of coffee, Honey. It’s already been ‘saucered and blowed.”

Ain’t nothing atall wrong with being a Geezer. Come join me.