I was sitting in a local bar for lunch on St. Patrick’s day, sipping on a nice, tall Gin and Tonic, when an elderly man walked through the door. Everyone, who I believed were daily lunch-time regulars, howled “HEYYYYYY!!!!”

With visible effort, he squealed back, “Hey, guys!”

With who I assumed to be his daughter in pursuit, the old man hobbled, slow, his way across the bar to my three o’clock.
The bartender, who actually turned out to be a woman who used to babysit me back in the mid-90’s (phew!), went to grab him his daily martini when he stopped her, saying “I’ll take a Guinness!”

The girl next to me explained he had a “martini a day to keep the doctor away” (a man after my own heart). He’s 91 now, and still has a great energy and presence about him. He was a professor of English at NYU a long time ago.

Happiness was literally oozing out of him.

She said, “Those Irish eyes are smiling.”

I said, “Nah, they’re just telling me life is always worth living.”


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