Pat and I had dinner last night with four widows who were in their 80s. Probably late 80s, as we were at a mercy dinner for a mutual friend who’d died at 92 and they were her girlfriends. (The deceased was Pat’s cousin, Edith Joseph.) Anyway, they were great company. Funny and sharp and just the way you hope to be at 90. As it is with all (almost all) of Florida’s elderly, they came from somewhere else, but these women love Florida. One of them said she was rooting for the Phillies in the World Series and the other one sneered, what kind of New Yorker are you, anyway? Ex-New Yorker, she said. Another one said she was getting new windows because of all the golf balls that keep breaking hers, and I said, well, you must have a nice view, though. She whipped out her i-phone and showed me a picture of it. They made fun of my low-carb diet. Staff of life, honey. One gal was a Florida native (imagine Sanford in 1920). She said she’d been back recently and it’s a real cute town now.
Pat and I thought they were great conversationalists and I’d like to see them again! You know, Edith was terrific--it's no surprise her friends are too.
Here's another picture of Sanford in the 20s.