The past few weeks have offered up some great opportunities for meeting, greeting and gabbing with others. In our earlier years we would have called gabbing something like chatting or visiting or maybe even exchanging thoughts. Gosh, now that I think of it, we even had some years when we sat around and tried to commune with each other without using words. I immediately regret having that thought because I thought I saw a tie dyed Unicorn fly by my window.
Back to something I know about. Gab. Because I write this column and try to keep everything factual for our generation, I use a dictionary from 1971. It smells like an old library and never lets me down unless I need to look up anything which may have been added in the last 47 or so years. In that case I wing it or stop everything I'm writing and go to Wikipedia. This means I have to take notes for accuracy. If I knew how to use my computer I could get there from here but I'm a Geezer and that's not happening.
Gab. If you are from Scotland, it means mouth. If you are mixed up like the rest of us, my 1970 World Book Dictionary says you can be gabbed or gabbing which translates to chatter, gabble, idle talk or having the gift of the gab. If you happen to have the gift, you are likely to prattle. A real writer would look up prattle but I already know what it is because I have the gift of gab and so do most of my friends. Also, prattle is in a different volume and these are quite heavy.
Don't quote me but I believe the word prattle means that we can spend hours talking about nothing particularly critical to the world. In layman's terms, this means prattle shouldn't be political, religious or any other thing that might be contentious. There are exceptions when it comes to V-8 pitted against a V-6 turbo charged engine or the use of sliced or chopped apples in an apple cake.
Please note that men, God bless 'em, are louder at gabbing than women. I have to admit that women can sometimes out laugh them though. We get pretty amped up.
That's the beauty of being in the Geezer Tribe. We've all come through these years together. Earlier this month I watched my Mother, Aunts, Uncles and other family members celebrate her 89th birthday. Many members of this family have difficulty hearing, some use walkers and canes to move about, others have trouble with sight but they did a remarkable thing. Most of them rode the carousel at the Albany Carousel Museum. Some of them rode several times and others chose benches over animals and rode 'round and 'round laughing and talking. Others laughed and waved from the sidelines.
For three hours, we gabbed, taking time out for not only the carousel but hot dogs, P.B.J's, sodas, chips and candy treats. We were all kids again on that day. I am always amazed at the amount of information which seems to flow to and from folks who can't hear all words, and others who can't see details. Among people who love and care for each other it works. Perfection is no longer mandatory. We do our very best and things work out just fine.
In the meantime, Mr. S and I missed our favorite annual gathering in Brownsville with other members of the Old Geezers group. This event has become our singular vacation so you can imagine the sadness here. This grief grows out of a seed of gab which does not get to grow and bloom without Brownsville. We save stuff up all year long. Don't get me wrong, I share plenty of gab when I visit my family in the great valley but I've got nothing on Mr. S. He is the Master of Gab. I hate to shorten that to MAG because he would turn it into a car wheel.
If you have the Gift of Gab and are a Geezer, you'll get that. Otherwise, you're out of luck because my dictionary does not have mag wheels. It does have magnifico and just about every other magnetic word I've ever seen or heard of. Clearly, 1970 must have been a good year for magnets.
Gab on, Geezers.
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