Okay, I'm officially an old fart. I know that. I remember Ike as President, cars with tail fins, duck tail haircuts and James Dean when he was still alive. I remember seeing "East Of Eden" in a movie theater. Jeez that guy was a good actor before the clown in the DeSoto pulled in front of him.
But being an old fart has it's good side. Being retired has been great, with no alarm clock going off while it's still dark out. No rushed commute to a job that had gone stale and all my days are mine. It got even better when Karen retired and we had lots of time for ourselves to be ourselves. Long road trips around the country and to see family in California. Rafting trips to the Rogue River in Oregon and trout fishing in the Sierra Nevada's. Fishing and partying in Key West without having to worry about being back for work. After our move to Texas, lots of sight seeing in our new environment, the small/medium size town of Georgetown Texas.
Retired life in Georgetown, and maybe life in general in Georgetown, is like stepping back in time. Especially coming from the hectic pace of life in the Washington D.C. area. It has a real town square and the flavor of life general seems more southern than western. The old courthouse has tours, theres a real old fashioned barber shop on the square, various little business's in historic old stone and brick buildings that date back to the 1870's and 80''s. Among them is a great little coffee shop that we discovered when we moved here. And I love my coffee.
In the mornings, the shop seems to be handout of the 'older' population of retired people. There's a Del Web Sun City community on the west edge of town, so Georgetown has lots of us senior citizens. There seems to be a protocol of sorts for the coffee shop. The menfolk sit with a coffee and doughnut or cinnamon bun while the women folk browse the so called "Antique Shops" around the square. Therein was the enlightenment.
This shop has some the best cinnamon buns I've ever had. But...they're wrapped up better than King Tut's mummy! I have a sneaking suspicion that the shop owner has stock in Saran Wrap, so uses about 20 times more than he has to. Or, he's fanatical about maintaining the freshness of his on premises baked cinnamon buns. On top of that, the package is taped shut. This of course makes them almost inaccessible to senior citizen fingers. With a cup of nice coffee steaming away on the table, one has to resort to cold steel to liberate the cinnamon bun.
While I have noticed a fair number of pocket clips on some folks, and fancy tooled belt holsters for trapper style knives on others, the early morning coffee crowd of cinnamon bun seeking old timers seem to run true to form, with small 'pen knife' type cutters being the norm. The old stereo type of the old gray/white bearded guy with the little pen knife is still holding true in some parts of the country. Over the past two and a half years, I've come to know some of the same people attacking the Saran Wrap bundles with sharp blades. Some well used looking Buck 309's and 305's. A Boker pen or two. A few of the little Victorinox classic's in the hands of newcomers from California that seem to be migrating to the area. And there seems to be a protocol or unwritten rule that the little knives are carried in the coin pocket of the jeans or Wrangler shorts.
All seem sharp enough, and the object is to neatly slit the dastardly plastic wrap without crushing or breaking up the imprisoned cinnamon bun. Over time, a friendly impromptu competition has developed with each of us watching closely how well our knives cut through the wrap. Will one cut do, or does one need a second cut? Did the Saran Wrap part cleanly, or was there any tearing. Tearing is bad and will result in plentiful but good natured ribbing.
Morris seems to have a good method down pat. He takes the blade of his old Buck 309, and gently pierces and slides the blade in-between the wrap and the top of the bun. Then he turns the blade up and neatly slits the wrap across the top so he can then peel the wrap off to the sides, leaving a perfect unbroken bun to consume with the fresh brewed coffee. Morris keeps his little Buck very sharp. Morris is a native Texan and prides himself on keeping a knife very sharp.
Steve from California cheats and uses the little scissors on his Victorinox classic. He neatly snips his way around the bun midway around the middle and neatly lifts off the top half of the Saran Wrap to the good natured jeers of the old timer crowd. Morris will stage whisper, "He's from California!"
My little Boker 240 penknife does a good job on the Saran Wrap, but of late I've been using my Sardinian Resolza a good deal. The simple elegance of the knife with the flat ground blade glides through the sticky Saran Wrap like butter. Had to explain the whole friction folder to some of them. The first time I used it, Bob who is from just outside of town and has been a real rancher in his life, coon fingered and chicken eyed it and exclaimed, "Heck, it don't have a back spring!" as if it was guilty of some sort of crime. Bob is a Buck man to the last, and his well worn old Buck wrangler has been retired and now replaced by a Buck 303 cadet that is Bob's retired life knife. Texas rancher to the end, Bob ain't gone abandon the stockman pattern. But he still carries it in his coin pocket.
It's reassuring to know that even in Texas, where hand tooled belt sheaths and pocket clips are normal, the old guys with the little 'pen knife' in the coin pocket still go about their life, cutting what needs to be cut.
But being an old fart has it's good side. Being retired has been great, with no alarm clock going off while it's still dark out. No rushed commute to a job that had gone stale and all my days are mine. It got even better when Karen retired and we had lots of time for ourselves to be ourselves. Long road trips around the country and to see family in California. Rafting trips to the Rogue River in Oregon and trout fishing in the Sierra Nevada's. Fishing and partying in Key West without having to worry about being back for work. After our move to Texas, lots of sight seeing in our new environment, the small/medium size town of Georgetown Texas.
Retired life in Georgetown, and maybe life in general in Georgetown, is like stepping back in time. Especially coming from the hectic pace of life in the Washington D.C. area. It has a real town square and the flavor of life general seems more southern than western. The old courthouse has tours, theres a real old fashioned barber shop on the square, various little business's in historic old stone and brick buildings that date back to the 1870's and 80''s. Among them is a great little coffee shop that we discovered when we moved here. And I love my coffee.
In the mornings, the shop seems to be handout of the 'older' population of retired people. There's a Del Web Sun City community on the west edge of town, so Georgetown has lots of us senior citizens. There seems to be a protocol of sorts for the coffee shop. The menfolk sit with a coffee and doughnut or cinnamon bun while the women folk browse the so called "Antique Shops" around the square. Therein was the enlightenment.
This shop has some the best cinnamon buns I've ever had. But...they're wrapped up better than King Tut's mummy! I have a sneaking suspicion that the shop owner has stock in Saran Wrap, so uses about 20 times more than he has to. Or, he's fanatical about maintaining the freshness of his on premises baked cinnamon buns. On top of that, the package is taped shut. This of course makes them almost inaccessible to senior citizen fingers. With a cup of nice coffee steaming away on the table, one has to resort to cold steel to liberate the cinnamon bun.
While I have noticed a fair number of pocket clips on some folks, and fancy tooled belt holsters for trapper style knives on others, the early morning coffee crowd of cinnamon bun seeking old timers seem to run true to form, with small 'pen knife' type cutters being the norm. The old stereo type of the old gray/white bearded guy with the little pen knife is still holding true in some parts of the country. Over the past two and a half years, I've come to know some of the same people attacking the Saran Wrap bundles with sharp blades. Some well used looking Buck 309's and 305's. A Boker pen or two. A few of the little Victorinox classic's in the hands of newcomers from California that seem to be migrating to the area. And there seems to be a protocol or unwritten rule that the little knives are carried in the coin pocket of the jeans or Wrangler shorts.
All seem sharp enough, and the object is to neatly slit the dastardly plastic wrap without crushing or breaking up the imprisoned cinnamon bun. Over time, a friendly impromptu competition has developed with each of us watching closely how well our knives cut through the wrap. Will one cut do, or does one need a second cut? Did the Saran Wrap part cleanly, or was there any tearing. Tearing is bad and will result in plentiful but good natured ribbing.
Morris seems to have a good method down pat. He takes the blade of his old Buck 309, and gently pierces and slides the blade in-between the wrap and the top of the bun. Then he turns the blade up and neatly slits the wrap across the top so he can then peel the wrap off to the sides, leaving a perfect unbroken bun to consume with the fresh brewed coffee. Morris keeps his little Buck very sharp. Morris is a native Texan and prides himself on keeping a knife very sharp.
Steve from California cheats and uses the little scissors on his Victorinox classic. He neatly snips his way around the bun midway around the middle and neatly lifts off the top half of the Saran Wrap to the good natured jeers of the old timer crowd. Morris will stage whisper, "He's from California!"
My little Boker 240 penknife does a good job on the Saran Wrap, but of late I've been using my Sardinian Resolza a good deal. The simple elegance of the knife with the flat ground blade glides through the sticky Saran Wrap like butter. Had to explain the whole friction folder to some of them. The first time I used it, Bob who is from just outside of town and has been a real rancher in his life, coon fingered and chicken eyed it and exclaimed, "Heck, it don't have a back spring!" as if it was guilty of some sort of crime. Bob is a Buck man to the last, and his well worn old Buck wrangler has been retired and now replaced by a Buck 303 cadet that is Bob's retired life knife. Texas rancher to the end, Bob ain't gone abandon the stockman pattern. But he still carries it in his coin pocket.
It's reassuring to know that even in Texas, where hand tooled belt sheaths and pocket clips are normal, the old guys with the little 'pen knife' in the coin pocket still go about their life, cutting what needs to be cut.
