He's in his 70's to 90's. If it's warm out he tends to wear bermuda shorts, sandals with black socks that rise up to mid-calf. When it's chilly he'll cover his head with a newspaper boy hat and a scarf that no doubt represents his alma-mater. He may be slightly hunched over with age, but he doesn't let it slow him down as he shuffles down the sidewalk or the aisle. Oh the cute shuffle he does. You know he was a dancer in his younger days. I see him and I just want to adopt him.
You know he likes to play cards, perhaps Gin or Solitare. And he could talk for hours about the good old days, like the war, the first or the second, doesn't matter.
So call me picky, or color this blog really short, but that is my kind of man.