Saturday I attended a pretty successful meeting of DAV Chapter 23 (West Seattle). After a year or two of hanging out and contributing to the discussion as an outsider, I finally took the plunge, signed up for the Auxiliary, and got my temporary membership card. It's a good community.
At this meeting were a few newcomers, including the two guys who organized the Veterans Fair at the Tacoma Done a couple months ago. We'd been vaguely aware of each other and generally approving, but it was nice to have the chance to chat in person.
Also present was a new member from Wisconsin, a healthy-looking redhead whose political and organizational views were completely in tune with mine. We exchanged cards and I confess without embarrassment that I was enjoying the conversation without keeping in mind that, literally, this person was young enough to be my daughter. In my heart, I'm still aged about 22.
Tito joined us and the conversation got even livelier; we're all having a good time and swapping great stories and tips. She talks about some issues with a veterans' group she'd worked with in the Midwest, and said that one problem is that it was stuck on being run by crusty old guys. We all nodded understandingly, and then she looked at me and said, "Not that I have anything against crusty old guys."
Inside, I cringed and then laughed. I had been greyzoned!
I am after all 59, and that's a good time of life, but I'm not age-appropriate, and that's the way it is. I'm not complaining (...lord knows there are plenty of very interesting women in my age range; I am just out of the market until I get my act together...) but something about this interaction made me laugh.