Someone once asked us who we are?

That sparked something in me. Kinda like a dull glow one sees in an old farmer’s eye when you mention an old, one “lunger” John Deere tractor. So I got to thinking about it, thinking about it a lot. Who the heck are we?

I thought we might be runaways. You know Parents that have run away from their children. No, I don’t think so. Our kids know where we are. They try politely to give us space and not do anything that might get us lathering at the lips, certain to draw the attention of local psych clinic. They, significant others and the grandkids figured out we are relatively harmless and now, during those certain solstice raisings when we switch from Captain Ron personas to that of Pirates of the Caribbean, they pay for the E ticket ride and cruise with us until the rum runs out.

Then I thought, maybe we were entrepreneurs. Not likely. Too little money. Nope, fifty foot boat, twenty foot boat budget.

Why we even considered briefly we might be expeditionaries seeking carefree adventures and fortunes of the seven seas. Not likely, we get seasick if we stray too far offshore.

Damn, we must be someone. Everyone is somebody. We are not nobody. But who are we?

Could we be modern day pirates that steal the smell of fresh air, the joys of living free? Are we buccaneers fraudulently capturing the camaraderie of meeting new friends in old waterfront bars, enjoying the odor of fresh shrimp from the nearby fish boat, the crispness of salt on the breeze, the delicate aroma of fresh beer growing old on the tiki bar wood dock? Oh, hell I don’t know.

Perhaps we are just “every-couple”, blowing with the winds, high on what life brings us, intoxicated with each other’s company. Maybe we are living large quietly, with not much to prove. It seems we celebrate something, a simple pleasure, everyday. I admit, some days we may do nothing more.

Why, we are just us; a couple at peace, with each other and with the world.