Day 36 Frankfurt

Ward, Inge, Dave, and Me

They hadn't changed. Well, maybe a bit. The little hair that Dave had was gray. Inge, though, looked the same. And Ward, with a full head of grayless hair (what's with that?) looked almost thirty years younger. It had been 35 years. Dave, Ward, and I taught Engish at Berlitz in Frankfurt. Yet our memories were still fresh of those insouciant times so long ago. We laughed at our numerous follies, chided each other on the epic novels we have yet to write, and commissurated on our aging aches and pains. Dave and Inge live in the same apartment. Inge retired from flying with Lufthansa, Dave writes and sings Irish ballads, but mostly the two spend their retirement hiking mountains, running marathons, and traveling the world. Ward joined us later in the evening and the four of us hardly missed a beat from where we had left off 35 years ago as the jokes started flying. Dave's joke, with his heavy Irish brogue, about the Irish version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire took the prize. It's too long to repeat here and who could possibly tell it like a true Irishman.