By Moose Murphy
When I was a puppy, my Uncle Ray often came to my house to see Papa (Joe). I was so excited to see Uncle Ray that I would run to the front door as fast as my little paws could scurry across the floor. I was taught not to jump on people or go crazy when a visitor came to our house, but I couldn’t help running circles around Uncle Ray and doing figure-eights in between and around his legs. He always says, “That’s a good lookin’ dog you got there, Joe!”
Uncle Ray stayed for a short time before Papa grabbed his backpack and headed out the door with him. I had so many questions for Papa as he patted me on the head and said goodbye. Where are you going? Why can’t I go? When will you be home? Papa and Uncle Ray smiled and joked as they left, so I thought wherever they were headed it was going to be fun. When Papa returned home happy and sometimes muddy and dirty, I knew he had a great time.
Spring hikes for older legs
For decades editors have told me not to use the word “elderly,” because it is both subjective and derogatory, an edict that I have afforded the same bland indifference with which I semi-acknowledge a dental hygienist who has just pressured me to floss.
But at a public hearing over a Ticonderoga public works project this week, a young woman was decrying new curbing that had facilitated the formation of ice and caused her to fall. She was OK because she was young, she said, but — and here she pointed to her neighbor, not much older than me — “this elderly gentleman” might not be as lucky.
He gave her a look, but didn’t say anything. I got to admit, though, that kind of stung. Still, the Adirondacks is filled with little hikes suitable for us elderly folk.
I used to think some of these short but interesting jaunts like Essex Quarry or Cathedral Pines as beneath my dignity, but now that I’m elderly I revel in these, and other perks of the infirm.
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