Steppin' Out

There comes a point when you say to yourself, “okay, the ball’s in your court. It’s time to get out there and meet people.” After a year in Charleston, we have been swept up in a wave of extrovertism (if that’s a word). While I have been out and about for the past year making an easy fit of my new retirement fatigues, the same could not be said of Lily. Whereas I have been doing a steady meet and greet every morning in my jaunts to the beach with Mojo, Lily has been encased, as it were, working in her cave, which we alternately refer to as the office or guestroom numero dos. I have been flapping my gums for months meeting a wide array of dog owners, getting to like some, making my own contribution toward our assimilation into the South Carolinian life style. But now, Lily is retired. And, in anticipation of the event (which officially occurred last Friday), we have been looking for avenues to pursue to glad hand and embrace the entire Wild Dunes Community.

Our first shot in the dark came with the local bridge club. I know, I know it sounds so terribly stolid -- so old school -- but, hey, it’s a start. Lily and I do enjoy the game although we find it so much more enjoyable when it is accompanied by major servings of wine and opportunities to chat amiably with our opponents. As it turns out, the group we joined could not have been nicer: convivial, welcoming, knowledgeable. What the small print disclosed, however, was that the median age of the group was somewhere around 112, maybe a bit less. I mean these folks don’t just remember the Great Depression; some were walk-ons for the movie version of the Grapes of Wrath, I‘m quite certain. That’s old in case you’re missing my point. But, we have gone several times now even including their early bird dinners which begin about 5:30. My God, it's still light then, and it's winter for crying out loud. Stay tuned on this one.

Beyond this, we have enrolled (drum roll, please) in the Wild Dunes Yacht Club! Please, please try to refrain from laughter at this point. Really, wait just a second. First of all, you don’t have to be a boat owner to join. This is a good thing since, first, we don’t own a boat, and second, we are as comfortable in small boats as many people are in straight jackets. Second, it appears that the primary unifying force of the club is to get people together to drink and eat. Not necessarily a bad thing. And, maybe best of all, a number of the members don’t clearly remember a world without the internet. No Civil War veterans here. Lily and I went to one meeting a couple of weeks ago and were delighted at the wine selection, and the care free camaraderie of the attendees. We look forward to the next event.

I’m even thinking of trying to find the perfect ascot for these events. Maybe one with little anchors in it.