Wisdom From Table Eleven

This is a story about a gaggle of old men that meet every Friday for lunch at a haunt in a small town in a state on the east coast. The establishment reminds one of “Cheers,” the successful TV show that features a good-looking bartender and a clever waitress surrounded by witty protagonists. Well, to be fair, it probably doesn’t really resemble the TV show, but it is a pub, which, incidentally, features 58 different beers. Called “Bonnie’s Lunch Bucket,” the place is frequented by regulars that, let’s say, are representative of a significant part of the American social class. In short, I think it is safe to say that many have a distinctive dislike and disgust of the present ruling class. At any given time, you will meet cops, firemen, trade workers, secretaries, professionals, health care workers, etc. This wonderful cross section of society represents that part of the zeitgeist that is patriotic, loves America, and stands for our national anthem.
Cast of Characters:
Waitress: Glenda is an attractive lady who has been working there for 23 years and features a warm charm, quick mind, and sweet and kind attitude. She dutifully serves table 11 for us old geezers, hence the title of this story. Without a note pad, she unfailingly memorizes our order even though some of us mutter from time to time and change our mind as we are ordering.
Before I describe the old men, it is safe to say that each has led a very successful life, and you would like them if you were fortunate enough to meet them. I’m not ashamed to include myself, because as I said before, this is my story.
Luke: This old geezer is 78 years old and served in the Airforce and is a Vietnam veteran. He was supposed to die a few years ago from liver cancer but he keeps lingering on. I must quickly point out that he is not a drinker. He had cancer behind the eye that metastasized. He has just been diagnosed with an aortic aneurysm, which will probably have to be repaired. A devout Chrisian, he owned an air-conditioning company and can fix darn near anything. He seems to be able to talk to machines telepathically.
Warren: This old geezer is 84 with good hair. An Army veteran officer, he had a very successful career in water management. He designed and built a spectacular home that resembles one created by Frank Loyd Wright. A thoughtful gentleman, he asks a lot of questions and has a somewhat quirky hatred for tachometers, which will be addressed later. He is nicknamed “cornbread” because, while at a gathering, he made a pig of himself of the tasty treat to the astonishment and embarrassment of his friends. Except for my next character, he is the best looking.
Ken: The youngest of the group at 69, he owns a very successful Screen-Printing Business which he founded many years ago. It is safe to say that he may be the most idiosyncratic of the group. For instance, for 15 years he has owned a 28-foot power boat that sits on a trailer in his back yard. He has never put the boat in the water; never! A divorcee, who regales us with stories of his love lives, could retire very comfortably, but chooses to work.
Clancy: The oldest of the group at 86, he had a career as a college administrator. Walking with a cane and a tad hunched over, he is always coming late with more than a little fanfare. Always with a quick quip, he sucks us in to betting on the ponies. It is safe to say that we have been quite successful; we have only lost $380 dollars. He dutifully takes home a snack to his wife, who is confined to a wheelchair.
Me: At 84, my career was in college administration. I have a doctorate in Education, which has nothing to do with intelligence, but everything to do with perseverance. This is the same degree that the president’s wife has, where she irritatingly and pretentiously insists on being called Dr. Jill. I am an Army veteran and used the G.I. Bill, but unlike the other characters, I am the least athletic. For instance, in high school, I always wanted to be on the “shirt” team rather than the “skins” team. Speaking of athleticism, I am proud to know that each of my buddies featured here played a variety of sports with not inconsiderable success.
Except for Ken, each of us has been happily married for fifty and sixty years, but before closing this section, I think it is wise to add one more character to the mix because he would be at our lunch if he could.
Manny: He is 80, divorced, army veteran, married again to a lovely and gracious lady, and living in the Villages in Florida. At six foot three, about 280 pounds, and a former rugby player, he bears a striking resemblance to the star of the old TV series “Gunsmoke.” On a ferry in Alaska, a lady insisted that he was James Arness and wanted to get his picture. I tried to get in the shot, but she shooed me away. He is revered in our group because he is the victim of a comment better than “Scarlett, I don’t give a damn” in the movie “Gone with the Wind.” His first wife told him that “you may be a big man, but you are a little person.” We are proud of him.
I will end this section by reiterating that I am honored to be a friend of these guys and I look forward with keen anticipation to our Friday lunches. Now, onto the guts of this piece.