The OB&C and MJE ventured out to dine this week. We drove to a nearby town and pulled into “Ye Olde Ale house.” If you think that we were transported to a cozy public house in jolly olde england you would be severely disappointed. We entered a cavernous room with a bar along the far wall populated exclusively with a dizzying array of inked flesh, which put in my mind an iceberg (it’s just the way my twisted brain functions) that what you see is a fraction of the actual berg, the great volume of it of it is below water. And if this much ink is visible, god only knows what’s going on under those wife beater undershirts. The bar sported the usual mind boggling number of television sets, and shockingly not a one of them was streaming masterpiece theatre. Gadzooks!
Well, Ye Olde Ale house is hard by the gated entry of the walmart of elder adult communities, Sun City and apparently serves as this one’s “neighborhood pub.” When we walked in I was stunned, it was like walking into a bizarre kingdom of the heavily bronzed, not a head would have turned if a gaggle of oompah loompas had sauntered in and bellied up to the bar. I haven’t seen that much orange since I accidentally opened my eyes during an eclipse.
Golf fashion is de rigueur, to a man, the tan hairless legs sported the state sock of florida, the short crew. Nowhere did I see the former old man standard, white crew socks pulled up as high on the shin as possible. Also brightly colored shorts and quick dri polyester shirts bearing the logos of various golf clubs, and baseball hats emblazoned with the logos of their home courses. The old white guy’s equivalent of a gang tatoo. To sport a generic unadorned hat or shirt would be unthinkable, a man without a tribe, total loser. These guys have a stricter dress code than the mean girl cliques in eighth grade. And frankly, at this point in their lives, it is just not worth the risk of committing a fashion faux pas that may well knock you right out of the 19th hole.
The women of adult retirement communities also have their own fashion statements to make. Most prevalent is the clam digger pant. I am not sure who may have thought that this style might in any way be flattering to elderly women but to be blunt, he should be shot. If you have lousy looking legs it makes them look worse and if you have good legs, well dammit, show em off, girlfriend! Sadly these pants are often paired with short sleeved “roomy” tops. Look, I hate to sound judgmental, but seriously, floppy, crepey skin is just not something that anyone wants to have to look at. If you are just not up for long sleeved shirts or tops, for god’s sake go 3/4, the world will thank you.
However, in defense of ye olde ale house, it was a welcome break from ye new white house.
my jaundiced eye 