We are nicknamed “The Old People” simply because we are old.
We are a group of men and women aged 55-75 at Planet Fitness who work out every morning between sessions of gabbing and complaining about ailments, surgeries and doctors appointments.
They are my people and we are going out tonight for dinner at Uptown Grill in Commerce Township. We might even stick around for when the young people take over the dance floor. But we will mostly smile and watch, wishing we were in our 20s again.
I like the old people because we can talk and not argue with each other. We have Trumpers in the mix along with people who wished Obama could have had a third term. We have Jews and Gentiles, men and women, blacks and whites, conservatives and liberals and every view in between.
The Old people have had heart surgeries, strokes, knee replacements and hip replacements. I complained about having to take a steroid shot for a sore right shoulder, thinking my pain was something special.
About half of the old people threw their hands up in the air and said: “I’ve had one of those.”
It is tough getting old. If you have not had an ailment, you are about to. But we are trying to delay further attacks on our bodies. That is why we are in the gym and eating healthy meals.
We do more than work out trying to stay healthy. It has become a fellowship. We all look forward to our 60-90 minutes each morning on the tread mill, stair master and by the weight machines.
Back in the day I would guarantee that I would dance with one of the cuties at Uptown. But here is what’s likely to happen tonight. A cutie will approach me and say: “Mr. Foster. My dad loves you.”
And if I’ve had enough beers I might reply: “Do you love me?”
Cutie: “No. The only love you get from my family is from my dad.”
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