Sunday, October 4, 2009

Saturday night at Punk's Place


(Punk's Place, Candor, NY.  Where everybody knows your name.)

This will be only our second visit to Punk's Place, and our first Saturday night.  Live music.  Drinks.  Food.  I've showered for the first time in two days, and I shaved for the first time this month.  Kind of an autumnal equinox celebratory shave.  Not thinking so much about what I might drink there (they seem to be a little shy of single malts), but what I might eat.  I noticed last time that the menu had reuben sandwiches, so I have been thinking about that all day.  But you know, anticipating going out to a place like this is just not what it was 30 years ago.  It takes effort to get presentable and, besides, I normally go to bed about 10pm.  Have to feed the damn dog at 5am.

Robin and I will almost certainly be the oldest people in the joint, but we are getting used to that.  It seems it has been that way for a long time.  When we visit our sons in Denver, they take us out to tequila bars, latin dance clubs, or parties at their friends' houses; we out-age everyone in the room by at least a decade.  Did we just not do enough partying when we were younger?  Are we trying to make up for lost time and the fact that we had children when we were in our early 20s?  Did all the other baby-boomers get kidnapped by the x-generation who think our age group has a lot of money?  (We were spared, cause they know we don't have any.)  If so, where did they hide all those senior citizens, in those old abandoned brick buildings in Syracuse?

But we are meeting one of my former students there, Mark.  Mark is 21, so he can guide us through any social nuances we may have missed during our previous encounters with younger adults.  Do men still shake hands?  Does the old guy buy the younger one the first round, or is it the other way around? 

Plus, do they have any strange customs in Candor, NY that we have not seen?  I've never been there in the dark. Do you have to drink beer there or would a nice chardonnay be out of the question?  Am I expected to breakdance to any Michael Jackson music they play, or can I beg off?  I'm wearing cords; am I overdressed?  I just don't know.   Maybe Mark doesn't know either; he's from Syracuse.  We don't want to offend anyone.  In hindsight, I probably should have arranged to have the white-haired lady who cut my hair in Candor last week meet us there.  I tipped her $2, so she would help.  She would know everyone and could introduce us around.  Man, now I am really nervous.

several hours later.........

We went, we saw, we conquered.

to be continued..........