It's 2017. Do you know where your Grandfather is?
There is a man I’ve seen in my neighborhood who looks
just like my grandfather.
Same round face. Same lack of hair on top of
his reddish scalp. Same thick gray mustache except without the twisty sides. And
even similar black glasses.
One thing is not similar.
Ripped jeans. As
best I remember, my grandfather never wore ripped jeans. Not even on the weekends.
The man who looks like my grandfather is about my
age.
Even still sometimes I feel like running up to him and saying “Big Pop, are we having breakfast at Hymie’s this Sunday? I don't do it though, in part because I might discover that I may have to pay for his white fish at breakfast.
I might discover he's younger than I am.
In fact, I have never gone up or spoken to the man who looks like my
grandfather. Seeing my grandfather in the guise of a Baby Boomer is a rite
of passage on which I'd rather pass.
But some day, I might change my mind.
“Excuse me, sir! Excuse me, Big Pop!
“Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, I’m talking to you, Big Pop! How did you come back to life?
“I don’t remember being dead.”
“Oh you were, stone cold 1987."
“I was 34 in 1987...”
Shit! He is younger than I am.
“I think I get it. I look like your grandfather?”
"And you look good for being dead, Big Pop, or alternatively being 122 years old."
“Do I really look that much like your grandfather?”
“Yes, but is that a tattoo? Show some restraint, you’re a 1970’s Jewish
grandfather!”
“But I'm not," he laughs. "If you'll excuse me, I’m headed now for a "Friends of the Earth" environmental meeting in
the bookstore here.”
Gee, my grandfather only cared about the environment when
he was trying to decide whether it was a nice day to go to the racetrack.
“See you, dude!” he says.
Dude! So cute coming out of "Big Pop's" mouth.
The guy who looks like my grandfather vanishes into
the bookstore.
My grandfather never vanished into a bookstore unless someone was holding a copy of "1001 Jokes by Phyllis Diller" there for him.
My grandfather never vanished into a bookstore unless someone was holding a copy of "1001 Jokes by Phyllis Diller" there for him.
Well, I guess it could be worse. Someone my age could be looking at
me and thinking I look like his grandfather.
Wait a minute!
How do I know someone isn't?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2 comments:
Did your Grandpa like to bet on the ponies? I'm sure this "Big Pop" look-a-like would love you to buy his breakfast. In fact, you can even buy mine if you'd like.
I was at the store one day and a little boy about 5 looked up at me and said, "You look just like my Papaw."
So, I responded, "Your Papaw must be a handsome devil." The kid's mother didn't know what to make of my remark.
Yes, he did. It was a thing in my family overall. Half of us liked racing, especially harness racing, the other half didn't. I was in the other half. I also liked masturbating, which is neither here or there. I talked to the little boy. He said his Papaw was so bad looking, women put a bag over HIS head. (At least he got women!)
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