When Augie is 80...

From November

From November Augie eating his bagel with a schmear of cream cheese at our lunch counter.

From November He will always prefer vinyl to digital but will enjoy live music best.

I imagine him leaving stingy tips but being full of stories, pockets full of butterscotch for people he really likes and little kids that make him smile. 

He'll have a mechanical pencil and pad at the ready for quick figuring and technical drawings that help bring clarity to his explanations about his newest invention and a joke or a funny story for people he thinks could use a laugh. 

He'll wear cookie crumbs in the corners of his mouth (at eighty he'll have at least one butter cookie a day with his coffee in the morning or a biscotti after dinner in the evening) and will always love the taste of cold vanilla ice cream. 

He won't be much on collecting things per se but will remember the names, faces and tiny details about all his true loves and true friends in his life. He'll keep lots of photos but will prefer to look at his memories through his mind's eye as he sits on a bench by the ocean. 

He wears beige trousers, a soft blue plaid flannel shirt and deep earthy brown shoes that keep him steady and don't irritate his bunion. His socks fall down constantly and he is irritated by how loose his wedding band has become on his bony ring finger. His nose is always runny and his eyes constantly water. He can see and hear perfectly though, even through all the ear hair he knows he needs to trim.

He does not like to fish but he does enjoy bocce, checkers, gin rummy and poker. He likes betting but his friends don't so he sticks to friendly games, unless he's in Vegas. He likes Vegas but always wishes he had a chance to visit Monte Carlo.

He will be well-traveled, well-read, well-regarded. His travels to in India and Peru will have been the most exciting but he will have enjoyed the people and the food of Spain and Cuba the most. He will have not cared for his bike ride through the tulip fields of Holland but will wish his legs could once again send him sailing through Moab.

He has an affable little wire-hair terrier named George that likes eating his leftover eggs and bacon but goes berserker, barking at the sight of a banana and upon hearing the Happy Birthday song.

He will always wish he bought that Triumph when he had the chance and will still love riding in fast cars with the top down (as long as he has his jacket and his good wrap-around sunglasses, otherwise he'd rather not).

He will like the sun on his face and a cool wind at his back. He will be able to recite four poems from memory, be able to mix a fantastic martini and make a hearty soup from virtually nothing. He will be fond of cashews and the color orange.

He will be a good man.