SILHOUETTES, SEAGULLS, SINGING & SANDERS

Debra and I hang out with the 50-plus-year-old group at church. We barely qualify.

This group calls themselves The Mountain Seniors, and is a ministry of Mountain Christian Fellowship.

Almost all the baby boomers I know abhor the word “seniors” as a self-descriptive label. By "almost all", I mean 100%. And this aversion to that word makes perfectly good sense, doesn't it? After all, seniors are old people and baby boomers are NOT old people. NOT! NOT! NOT!

I have actually invited early- to mid-fifties friends to the group and they have refused to attend because of the “S” word, which apparently forces them to step away from a place called "denial" and to step into a place called "reality".

But Debra and I have chosen to be strong, to disregard the abhorrent label, and to enjoy the interaction with these fun-loving people.

This weekend, which is the weekend of the annual Brookings Harbor Kite Festival, the group had a campout at Harris Beach in Brookings. Barbara T., who leads the group with her husband, told me a few days ago, “We desperately need a guitar player for our campfire meeting on Friday night”. So, I took Friday off work and Debra and my guitar and I all drove to Brookings together to join the group.

We did not camp at Harris Beach, however. Our unique style of camping requires a motel. And unlike an RV, which has a kitchen, our motel room did not have a kitchen. So, our contribution to the potluck dinner was a big red bucket from KFC.

With the Pacific Ocean in the background, and the sun also behind us, Debra and I are silhouetted on the sandy surface of Harris Beach.

Multitudes of seagulls kept us alert to soft, gushy items falling from the sky.

With about 30 "seniors" sitting in a big circle around a campfire, I provided accompaniment for the singing.

Colonel Sanders, who is also a senior, was among us.