I\u2019m a blabbermouth! Most old coots are. Tell us a secret and we go public! We love it when someone starts a sentence with, \u201cDon\u2019t let this out, but,\u201d \u2013 OR – \u201cYou can\u2019t tell anybody this, but,\u201d \u2013 OR – \u201cWe\u2019re not announcing this yet, but.\u201d That\u2019s a mistake, when you\u2019re talking to a blabbermouth.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sometimes I write an article about someone\u2019s embarrassing moment. I tell the story and end it with, \u201cI can\u2019t mention their name. It\u2019s Daren Merrill.\u201d Or whoever made the mistake of telling me something they didn\u2019t want published. I can\u2019t help myself. It\u2019s a sickness, Blabbermouthitis.<\/p>\n
Mike Coleman let it slip that he\u2019d turned 50. I wasn\u2019t sure how old he was until he presented me with a cane the other day. Not just a cane, an old coot cane, complete with a bicycle horn, a change purse, a pill box and two warning signs – \u201cA senior moment in progress\u201d and \u201cIf found, please return to.\u201d That\u2019s when I learned he was over 50; he said he got the cane at his 50th birthday party. He laughed as he handed it to me, saying he knew I could put it to better use. He was right. Did he want everyone to know he turned 50? I don\u2019t know, but they do now.<\/p>\n
I plan to bequeath it back to him. He\u2019ll need it someday. He has no idea how fast you go from 50 to 80. Not that I\u2019m 80 yet. I won\u2019t say how old I am. I\u2019m 77, a 77-year-old blabbermouth. When you\u2019re a kid, it takes forever to go from ten to 20, especially the period just before you\u2019re old enough to get a driver\u2019s license. It\u2019s the longest period of your life. An eternity. But not so with 50 to 80 – those three decades fly by so fast your head spins.<\/p>\n