Wrigley Field - 1945 Last week, despite temperatures in the high 90s, Natalie and I decided to reduce our collection of clutter by hosting a garage sale. Saturday morning sales had slowed to a crawl, and we agreed to start packing up the remaining clothes, roller blades, and glassware for donation. That's when an old, rusty, Chevy Suburban pulled up and parked at the end of our driveway. A very large, old man with a pronounced limp walked slowly towards the garage. At one point, the man tripped and I was afraid that he was going to fall face-first into our front yard. The handle on his cane was shiny and smooth from years of use. My wife closed her iPad case and went inside to fill her water bottle and check on our dogs. Likewise, I closed my iPad case and greeted our lone customer of the hour. "Good morning. Is there anything in particular that you 're looking for today?", I asked. ( Most of the older gentlemen seem to be shopping for hand tools or yard gnomes
Ruminations about lifelong learning.