I am at that vulnerable and dangerous age where I immediately fall in love with any pretty girl who is nice to me, and doesn't call me "Mister" or "Sir." There aren't too many of them around.
This one runs the front desk at the Provo Senior Center. I don't even know her name, but she has been very good to me, and greets me with a smile every day when I come over to her to ask for my meal ticket for lunch. I'm thinking of getting married in Las Vegas, and then a honeymoon on Lake Powell with a rented houseboat.
But when she noticed I was clicking photos of her by the dozen she told me the new Rec Center policy is that no outside cameras can be brought into the building and Rec Center personnel were not allowed to be photographed without permission from the site manager. So I fiddled with some dials on my digital camera and told her there, I had erased them all. Which I didn't. So sue me -- I stand for Freedom of the Press! Or at least Freedom of the Blog.
The chicken pot pie is just a biscuit with cream of chicken soup poured over it. Not even any celery added. However, I must admit it tastes pretty good if you're hungry. They served a dinky green salad and canned mandarin oranges along with it. I got stuck at a table with six other guys who ate with their elbows spread out like wings -- I got jabbed in the ribs so many times I thought I was back in bed with my ex-wife.
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