It'd be treacle if I praised Grandpop (and Grandpop's pants) as I'd like to - too muc a blog love-in. Plus, everyone who hasn't yet met Grandpop might mob the poor man's quiet life in Sea Island.
So, a few notes on Grandpop but no street address - that's it.
Grandpop retains the gentle North Carolina accent and manners of his youth; a southern gentleman (it seems to me) minus the red-state politics.
Grandpop's kept a factual diary every day since highschool. When he passes, it will be donated to the Exeter Library.
(He's maintained the same pant-waste-size since the same year. I'm going to guess no bigger than 34".)
Grandpop and Grandma addressed one another as "Gorgeous" and "Handsome". They were married for 65 years and he still blushes when referring to her figure.
Grandpop lunches weekly on St Simons with a group calling themselves the ROMEOS: Retired Old Men Eating Out.
He mixes plaids with plaids, seersucker with like-stripes. (Grandma shared a love of colors, patterns.)
(Loves his great grandchidlren too.)
When asked by dad, recalled that they drank Dubonnets and ginger ale in at the Shah Abbas Hotel in Isfahan, Iran in 1975.
C (Hoping our own era produces like-gentleman.)
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