Our Internal Age: Eight

Technically, my neighbor, Kevin, and I are somewhere on the backside of what is generally considered “middle-age.”

I think, however, both of us are a bit of a moving target in gauging our age by our thinking and behavior.  Most of the time, you might place us at the age of ten or twelve internally.

Yesterday, we both dropped down to the age of eight for a good chunk of the day.

While cruising around on Hauser Lake in my pontoon boat, on a whim, I put to shore at a rocky point.  “Wow, look at all those skippers,” I said, pointing at the shore.

Kevin stepped onto the small band of stones between the face of shale and the water and skipped a few rocks. Before long, both of use were standing on the band of skipping stones both skipping stones and collecting skippers to take with us.

“These are good,” I said.  “Really good!”

I repeat.  Kevin and I are not eight years old.  We are in our sixties.  I was piloting us around the lake on a pontoon boat.  And once we were underway again, the lake lay perfectly flat before us.

“Let’s throw some skippers,” I suggested.

“From the moving boat?” asked Kevin.

“Yep.  Of course.”

And, just like that, we were eight again.

Posted below are a couple photographs and a video of Kevin skipping rocks from the deck of my boat.

Skippers

Kevin (Grimacing) Ashore

Video of Kevin Skipping Rocks

—Mitchell Hegman