New year's eve party with elderly... amazing.
So I let my wife work out our plans for new year's eve, and she finds a hotel and party package just like we did last year. It's a good deal, $100 for two to stay in a hotel, get free dinner and breakfast, and a champagne toast at midnight with live music and a dance floor. Only difference from last year is it's in San Antonio, Texas instead of Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri, and it's about 20 degrees warmer outside.
We check in, relax for a bit in the room, head to dinner and... there are only about a dozen other people, all of whom have bought in to the same $100 package we did, all of whom are... at least 60 years old. Strange. The social director, who had spoken with my wife by phone about our being vegetarians and if that would work for dinner, greets us. Having come to know that I'm going to Afghanistan in January, he says he hopes I won't mind if he embarrasses me by mentioning it to the veterans he knows among the other guests.
Sure enough, they find out. By the time the night ends, I've danced with pretty much all of them in some form or fashion -- chicken dance, conga line, one-on-one slow dance with the ladies, some salsa abomination courtesy of me, and shaken hands with every one of them. Lots of thanks, even with direct mention by the DJ twice on the mic. One man who served in Vietnam pours me about 6 ounces of whiskey. Another, a Korean vet, gives me an ice bucket with a bottle of Sprite and two cups, and later, $20 and more thanks. I tried to refuse the money... he insisted. Later, hand-delivered trail mix. Then a magnum of champagne.
And these folks, aged 60-80, closed out the place. We went to sleep before they did. They all happened to know each other in some form or fashion, from social clubs and for having attended the same high school in San Antonio before I was born. In the case of one, before my MOM was born.
Enjoyed their company immensely. It was a wonderful time. Ran into a few of them in the morning at breakfast, talked some more. One called me "mijo" -- "son" in Spanish. Said he meant it. That was the other odd thing, they were pretty much all Hispanic. Not odd for San Antonio, but odd for what I'm used to. Almost all of them said I'll be in their prayers. I thanked them. We said goodbye, and continued off on the rest of our little vacation through south-central Texas.
Could it have been the best new year's eve party I've ever attended? Easily. Average age: more than double my own. Amazing.
We check in, relax for a bit in the room, head to dinner and... there are only about a dozen other people, all of whom have bought in to the same $100 package we did, all of whom are... at least 60 years old. Strange. The social director, who had spoken with my wife by phone about our being vegetarians and if that would work for dinner, greets us. Having come to know that I'm going to Afghanistan in January, he says he hopes I won't mind if he embarrasses me by mentioning it to the veterans he knows among the other guests.
Sure enough, they find out. By the time the night ends, I've danced with pretty much all of them in some form or fashion -- chicken dance, conga line, one-on-one slow dance with the ladies, some salsa abomination courtesy of me, and shaken hands with every one of them. Lots of thanks, even with direct mention by the DJ twice on the mic. One man who served in Vietnam pours me about 6 ounces of whiskey. Another, a Korean vet, gives me an ice bucket with a bottle of Sprite and two cups, and later, $20 and more thanks. I tried to refuse the money... he insisted. Later, hand-delivered trail mix. Then a magnum of champagne.
And these folks, aged 60-80, closed out the place. We went to sleep before they did. They all happened to know each other in some form or fashion, from social clubs and for having attended the same high school in San Antonio before I was born. In the case of one, before my MOM was born.
Enjoyed their company immensely. It was a wonderful time. Ran into a few of them in the morning at breakfast, talked some more. One called me "mijo" -- "son" in Spanish. Said he meant it. That was the other odd thing, they were pretty much all Hispanic. Not odd for San Antonio, but odd for what I'm used to. Almost all of them said I'll be in their prayers. I thanked them. We said goodbye, and continued off on the rest of our little vacation through south-central Texas.
Could it have been the best new year's eve party I've ever attended? Easily. Average age: more than double my own. Amazing.