Hey Sailor

I went out swing dancing last week at the club down the street, and one of the regulars there is a war vet named Saul. He is the rare person who will actually attempt intelligent conversation during a dance, so in between spins and swingouts, we were chatting about his service ("Navy. I was a flyer.") and about other places he goes to dance during the week.

He said, "I went down to Alpine Village on Monday night, and suddenly remembered why I stopped going there ten years ago. Too many old people!"

Did I mention when Saul served? He's an octogenarian WWII vet.

These Are the People in Your Neighborhood

Or maybe just in my neighborhood. I see this tree every morning when I walk the beastie. Around it, there is wrapped what appears to be a homemade swing, the bottom of which has been artfully and pragmatically rendered in Sharpie: