Freddogg Off The Chain

I was rolled by a boulder of a blue collar old man last Wednesday as I sat watching a high school indoor track meet. This is a nice guy who does a lot for young kids and I like him. When he sat down on the bottom bleacher bench he looked permanent like a mason had mortared him in place with quarry stone.
“How’s retirement, ”he asked, as I sat there feeling all wrong in ill fitting jeans, a dumb assed mock turtle neck that was older than a freshman half miler, hair was all funky matted down with a strand over one eyeball and I couldn’t even focus my Nikon.
“ It’s o.k.,”I said, giving him the short version because I’ve learned it’s not a question that begs an answer but rather begs, ”please shut up!” “Looks like your eating good, ”he said.
Lanced by the fat guy! Skewed and kabobed! Then he added, ”that’s good, you’ve earned it.”
Minutes later he commented on a girl running the 800 saying she was “getting big”.
“I believe they call it puberty, ”I said, marveling that this 325 pound retired pipe fitter thinks 103 pound distance runners look big.
The he told me about a college freshman, a girl who used to have muscular legs, but now she was skinny with no quads just squishy water Rosemary Balloony boiled chicken type thigh bones.
I started to feel better. Blue Collar Boulder Boy was taking no prisoners. I liked it, respected his judgment which was right on the money. I was kicking back with the nice guy,judgmental and hypercritical immobile fat fucker. I think we need more of them.

Ferociously Focused Freddogg